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Books by Penn Shirley 

THE LITTLE MISS WEEZY SERIES 

Three volumes Illustrated Price per volume 75 cents 

COMPRISING 

LITTLE MISS WEEZY 

LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER 

LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S SISTER 

THE SILVER GATE SERIES 

Three volumes Illustrated Price per volume 75 cents 
YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

Other volumes in preparation 

LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS BOSTON 


i 




How much?’ asked Weezy, while he felt the blades. 

Page 24 


THE SILVER GATE SERIES 



Young Master Kirke 


BY 




BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 


O MILK STREET 



Copyright, 1895, by Lee and Shepard 


All rights reserved 


Young Master Kirkb 


TYPOGRAPHY BY C J. PETERS & SON, BOSTON. 


PRESSWORK BY S. J. PARKHILL & CO. 


CONTENTS 


CHAfTER PAGE 

I. The Silver Gate 7 

II. Hop Kee and the Neighbors 17 

III. Lunching Out-of-Doors 30 

IV. “The Merry Five” 43 

V. Manuel’s Mishap 55 

VI. Kirke’s Amends 68 

VII. A Picnic at Home 83 

VHI. In a Chimney 98 

IX. By the Sea 114 

X. The Burro Express 128 

XI. Kirke Wretched 136 

XH. Everybody Happy 150 







LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


“ ‘ How Much? ’ asked Weezy, While He felt 

THE Blades” Frontispiece 

“Keep Him Quiet? Of Course I will” . . page 6i 

“Oh, I’m stuck, Weezy ! I can’t move” . . page no 


“ It’s My Graduating-Dress. Don’t crush 
It” 


page 139 





YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


CHAPTER I 

THE SILVER GATE 

That night — the very night that the 
Rowe family reached Silver Gate City — 
their hotel was shaken by an earthquake. 

“ O mamma, mamma, something is tum- 
bling!” shrieked little Miss Weezy, who had 
felt nothing like this before in all the six 
years of her life. 

“Don’t be frightened, my little daughter,” 
cried her mother, rushing in from the next 
room. “ It is only the earth rocking.” 

“Oh, is that all, mamma.? I think the 
earth is having a pretty hard time turning 


7 


8 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


over,” said Weezy drowsily. And she turned 
over herself and went to sleep. 

The next morning her bright brown eyes 
were pried open by a sunbeam, and she 
sprang from the bed to the window, exclaim- 
ing, — 

“ Where is the silver gate, Molly } Please 
show me the silver gate.” 

Molly wheeled from the toilet glass with 
a gay little laugh. 

“You funny, funny bit of a sister! Did 
you suppose there was a real silver gate 
here with gridiron bars like the one in 
Shelto’s pasture ? Why, no, indeed, there 
isn’t! Silver Gate is just the name of this 
city. They call it the City of the Silver 
Gate.” 

“ ’Thout any gate to it ? What makes ’em, 
Molly } I think they tell a story.” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know, Weezy,” returned 
Molly, crossing the room to peep over her 


THE SILVER GATE 


9 


little sister’s shoulder; “only you go through 
a gate to get somewhere. I fancy the bay 
is the gate ; and if you go through it, you 
get to the Pacific Ocean.” 

“ Oh, isn’t the bay blue, Molly ! ” 

“Yes; and do look at those mountains 
beyond it, Weezy ! They’re as purple as 
the English violets in our garden at home ! ” 
“Why, our violets were all squizzled up 
a long time ago, Molly. Snow on top of 
’em too.” 

“Of course. Oh, wasn’t it freezing cold at 
Gallatin last Tuesday when we came away!” 
shivered Molly, as she buttoned Weezy’s dress. 

“Cold as ice; and here it’s as warm as — 
as oatmeal pudding,” responded Weezy, be- 
ginning to be hungry. 

“ I should say it was I And see those 
lovely yellow roses down on the lawn ; great 
trees of them, Weezy Rowe I Why, it seems 
as if we must be dreaming.” 


10 


YOUNG MASTER ICIRKE 


For that matter Molly had felt in a sort 
of a dream ever since she and Kirke and 
Weezy returned from their grandfather’s in 
the fall. First had come their papa’s serious 
illness, when they had been told to go about 
the house on tiptoe, and their mamma had 
looked so grave. After papa was out of 
danger, their uncle. Dr. Wyman, had desired 
him to spend the winter in a milder climate ; 
and later still, it had been decided to take 
the whole family to Southern California. 

Well, they had bidden good-by to New 
England ; and here they were, — Mr. and Mrs. 
Rowe, Molly, Kirke, Weezy, and baby Don- 
ald, — a good half dozen, as Master Kirke 
said, safe and sound on the Pacific coast. 

“Pity we had to leave my pony behind,” 
went on Molly, aroused from her dreaming 
by a Mexican boy cantering past the hotel 
on a rough-haired bronco. “ Dear old Shelto ! 
I wonder how he’ll fancy Jerusha Runnell 
for a mistress.” 


THE SILVER GATE 


1 1 

‘‘ I wish we could have taken Bruno,” sighed 
Weezy, batting at a troublesome fly. Bruno 
is the bestest dog in the wide, wide world. I 
hope Uncle Doctor ’ll give him oceans of 
beefsteak. He likes beefsteak, my Bruno 
does.” 

“ Papa is going to buy Donald a dog, you 
know,” said Molly, settling in place her 
sister’s round comb. 

Weezy had sunny hair full of waves and 
ripples, and the comb above it made one think 
of a bridge across a sparkling waterfall. 

“Yes, papa is going to buy Donald a dog; 
and he’s going to buy me a rabbit,” cried 
Weezy, her eyes dancing. “ And by and by 
he’ll buy Kirke a bu-reau.” 

Burro, Weezy,” corrected Molly. “They 
call these donkeys out here burros.” 

“Burro, then. I wish I could ride this 
minute.” 

“We shall have a carriage after breakfast, 


12 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


and drive about the city to look for a house 
to live in.” 

“ Oh, goody, goody ! ” 

Yes ; we shall take a carriage, and we shall 
try to find a Chinaman to do our cooking ” 

‘‘A Chinaman to cook Hoh, Molly Rowe; 
you’re just a-funning. Men don’t cook; men 
chop wood and things.” 

“ Sometimes they cook too. Yesterday, on 
the train, papa heard of a man that cooks 
elegantly. He lives here in Chinatown. His 
name is Hop Kee ! ” 

“ Hop — what } ” asked Weezy, opening her 
eyes. 

“Hop Kee. We shall hunt him up this 
forenoon if papa is well enough.” 

Weezy clapped her hands. “ Oh, I’m so 
glad ! S’pose he’ll make me cunning little 
Uirnippers with apple in, like Lovisa does } ” 

At the home in Gallatin there had never 
been a man cook ; and Weezy was very curious 


THE SILVER GATE 


13 


to see this Hop Kee, whose name sounded to 
her just like a sneeze. 

“I dare say he’ll make Hurnippers ’ and 
pies and cakes and everything nice,” replied 
Molly, drying her wet fingers on a towel. 
“ There, I’m ready ; let’s go into mamma’s 
parlor.” 

Master Kirke, now a wide-awake, manly boy, 
not quite twelve, was waiting for them. 

Weezy ran to kiss him. “ Oh, did you feel 
the big earth turn ’round in the night, Kirke 
I did ; truly I did. It joggled and joggled 
just like mamma’s hush-a-by chair.” 

Kirke laughed. He usually laughed at his 
little sister’s remarks. He thought her the 
drollest wee maiden that ever lived. 

No ; I didn’t hear anything, Weezy. I 
guess ’twas your head that turned around,” 
said he, springing to open the door for his 
papa. 

Mr. Rowe walked in leaning upon a cane. 


14 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


and Mrs. Rowe followed with the baby. Then 
breakfast was served in their private parlor ; 
and after breakfast the carriage was an- 
nounced. 

“ We’re going to see the sneezy man. Oh, 
isn’t it lovely } ” exclaimed frisky Miss Weezy, 
as she snuggled into the back seat beside her 
mamma. “ Wish Kisty Nye could see him.” 

All the way to Chinatown, Weezy asked 
questions about Hop Kee ; and when the horses 
stopped at his whitewashed cabin, and he ac- 
tually appeared upon the threshold grinning and 
wagging his head like the china mandarin on 
the mantel at Gallatin, she stared at him as 
if he, too, had been made of china. 

“ What for does he braid his hair so tight, 
Molly she whispered. ‘‘He’s pulled his 
eyes way up.” 

“ Hush, he’ll hear you,” said Molly, trying 
not to smile. 

But Hop Kee was looking toward Kirke, 


THE SILVER GATE 


15 


who, after knocking at the door, had remained 
standing upon the threshold, and now asked, — 
‘^Is this Hop Kee ? Can you come out, 
please, and speak to my father ? ” 

“ Allee yight,” returned the Chinaman bow- 
ing for the sixth time, and scuffing to the 
carriage in his queer-toed slippers. 

His long cue kept whipping his legs as he 
walked, and Weezy thought it must hurt 
them. She could not understand all that 
was said ; but after they had driven on, Kirke 
told her that Hop Kee had promised to come 
on trial for a month to work in their kitchen. 

‘^But we haven’t any kitchen for him to 
work in,” said she anxiously. 

“No, not yet; but we shall have one by 
noon, young lady, and a dining-room into the 
bargain,” replied Kirke, with gay confidence. 

If the lad had supposed that it would be 
as easy to choose a home as to select a jack- 
knife, he soon discovered his error. They 


i6 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


looked at large houses and at small houses ; 
at houses too fine, and at houses not fine 
enough, yet at luncheon time were as far 
as ever from finding just the house they 
wanted. 

“Oh, it’s too bad,” sighed Miss Weezy, 
dragging little Donald by one hand up the 
steps of the hotel. “ What’ll Mr. Hop Kee 
do ’thout any kitchen.? He can’t make me 
any cunning little turnippers — for my seven- 
years-old birthday.” 

Molly stooped to kiss her troubled young 
sister. 

“ Don’t fret, sweetheart. Do you know 
that when the birthday comes you’ll be more 
than half as old as I am .? Great girls like 
you mustn’t cry.” 


HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 


*7 


CHAPTER II 

HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 

After searching several days for a home, 
Mr. and Mrs. Rowe at last found upon Vista 
Heights one that pleased them. It was a 
large, cream-colored cottage with three sunny 
bay-windows, and a broad veranda protected 
from the wind by glass. 

“I suppose there’s a roof to this house,” 
said Molly, the morning they moved in; ‘'but 
I can’t see it for the climbing roses.” 

She was helping her mamma in unpacking 
the valises and trunks when Hop Kee mounted 
the back porch with a lumpy-looking rice-bag 
on his shoulders. Weezy ran to let him in, 
and watched with eager curiosity while he 
emptied the contents of the bag upon the 


i8 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


pantry table. In the heap she spied a rolling- 
pin, a biscuit-cutter, an egg-beater, and various 
other articles used by Hop Kee in cooking. 

“ My mamma has things just like those,” 
said she. 

Hop Kee nodded, and replied with a grin, — 

“ Me blingee him allee samee.” 

Then he hung his dark blue frock behind 
the kitchen door, and drew on a frock of 
white linen. 

I shouldn’t think men would like to wear 
long-sleeved aprons,” remarked Weezy socia- 
bly, facing Hop Kee, with her back against 
the sink. 

Hop Kee said nothing. He was putting 
on a white paper cap which covered his hair 
all but the cue. Weezy observed that he 
had tied this cue in a tight bunch at the nape 
of his neck, and wound it about with narrow 
blue ribbon. 

“ Come out here, won’t you, Weezy, to play 


HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 1 9 

with Donald,” called Kirke at this moment 
from the yard. 

“ Pretty soon,” she answered, lingering. 

She wanted very much to know why Hop 
Kee let his hair grow so long, and braided 
stocking-yarn into it. Oh, if she only dared 
ask him ! Finally she could not wait another 
second, but inquired bluntly, — 

“ Why don’t you have somebody cut your 
hair off, Mr. Hop Kee / would.” 

The Chinaman tapped his forehead, shaved 
nearly to the crown of his head, and cried, 
“ Lookee, Missee.” 

** I didn’t mean there, on top, Mr. Hop 
Kee,” responded Weezy rather impatiently. 
“ I meant there, behind.” And she pointed 
to his tied-up cue. “ Please tell me, Mr. 
Hop Kee, what makes you wear that funny 
thing.” 

His slanting eyes showed annoyance. 

China king makee,” he answered after a 


20 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


pause. Then he added briskly, “No talkee 
allee timee.” 

Weezy knew as well as anybody that she 
had not, been polite in asking Hop Kee such 
questions, and she now made haste to join 
Kirke who was again calling her. He wished 
her to see the stable in which he had dis- 
covered a dove-cote, and a stall for a burro. 
Just then it was the height of his ambition 
to possess one of those droll, patient little 
animals ; and he was to have one if he per- 
formed his tasks cheerfully. His papa had 
promised. 

The task at present most trying to himself 
and to Molly was that of amusing the baby ; 
and this morning he had been playing horse 
with the child a full half hour. 

“ If Donald wasn’t so cross I wouldn’t 
mind,” said he, after he had shown Weezy 
the wonders of the stable. He mumbled 
the words, because of the worsted reins in 


HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 


21 


his teeth. Donald held the other end of the 
reins, and had driven Kirke around to the 
front veranda where Molly was vainly trying 
to shake out the creases in her best dress. 

“ I think he misses Ellen,” remarked Molly. 
Ellen Nolan had been Donald’s nurse-girl at 
Gallatin. 

“ Mamma says he’s getting more teeth,” 
responded Kirke, prancing to and fro at his 
young brother’s bidding. 

‘‘You have teeth enough now, Donny, sis- 
ter thinks,” cried Weezy, snatching a kiss as 
the little teamster toddled by. “You don’t 
eat hardly anything, only just milk.” 

“ Oo 'topy' snarled Donald, his mouth be- 
ginning to pucker as if it were drawn with 
a string. 

“ Don’t, Weezy; don’t stir him up, for pity’s 
sake,” entreated Kirke, as though he were 
speaking of a caged hyena. “ He mustn’t 
wake papa.” 


22 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


Ever since their father’s illness this had 
been the cry. Donald must be kept quiet 
at whatever cost ; and the baby had been 
petted till he was fast becoming a tyrant. 

“ See, Donny ! see that funny, yellow old 
man coming up street,” said Weezy, in a 
wheedling tone. “Hear him ringing his bell. 
Look ! he’s leading a brown old donkey with 
a cart.” 

“ Dap ! Dap ! ” cried Donald, smoothing 
the puckers from his lips, and beginning to 
back down the veranda steps for a nearer 
view of this new wonder. 

Kirke bolted after his little charge, tripped 
in the reins, tangled himself, untangled him- 
self, and in the end reached the pavement 
only just in time to snatch Donald from 
beneath the front hoofs of the burro. 

The driver uttered some exclamation in 
Italian, and backed the animal away from 
the child. 


HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 23 

“ Baby’s frightened ; baby isn’t hurt,” cried 
Kirke, stooping to lift his shrieking little 
brother. 

The man fixed his great black eyes upon 
the two, then nodded and smiled. He had 
not understood Kirke’s words ; but he could 
see for himself that no harm had been done. 

“ Knife, scissors, sharp } ” he asked, wav- 
ing the bell in his hand toward a big grind- 
stone in the cart. 

“Tell him yes, Kirke; mamma wants some 
shears ground. I’m sure,” called Molly, hur- 
rying into the house. 

The Italian nodded a second time, and fas- 
tened his burro to the iron negro boy that 
served as a h itching-post. 

“ Can’t that man talk, Kirke ? ” whispered 
Weezy at her brother’s elbow. 

“Not much, — not English,” replied Kirke, 
putting down the baby. 

The little fellow had ceased sobbing to 


24 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


Stare at the stranger, who drew from the 
cart a tall stool, and having seated himself 
upon this, rested his feet upon two treadles 
underneath his odd vehicle. 

“ He’s a funny old man to sit down in 
the road,” continued Weezy, in the same low 
tone. 

She paused suddenly, and moved aside for 
a lad who had crossed from the opposite 
house. 

“Good-morning,” said the lad in a friendly 
voice ; “ you are tenderfeet, aren’t you ? I 
thought so. You don’t look tanned like I 
do.” 

Weezy noticed that his face was very 
red, and his hair very light, as if it had 
been bleached by the sun. It was plain to 
her that the young stranger was tanned ; 
but it was not plain why he had called Kirke 
and herself “tenderfeet.” 

She had not heard that in California all 


HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 25 

new-comers from the East are nicknamed ten- 
derfeet. 

“ We’re from Massachusetts,” said Kirke ; 
“and we’ve rented this house for a year.” 

“ That’s good. We live right over the way. 
My name’s Paul, — Paul Bradstreet.” 

“And my name is Kirke Rowe,” returned 
Kirke promptly. “This little girl here is 
my sister Louise ; and the little boy is my 
brother.” 

“ Dap ! Dap ! ” cried Donald, pointing his 
short forefinger at the burro. 

“Donald calls everything ‘Dap’ that goes 
on four legs,” explained Kirke. Then, as 
Molly appeared, he added, “there, this is 
Molly, my other sister ! ” 

Molly bowed bashfully, thinking how rude 
it was in Kirke not to tell her the name of 
the white-headed lad. She held in her hand 
three pairs of dull shears, and she passed 
them at once to the Italian. 


26 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ How much ? ” asked she, while he felt 
the blades. 

“Three piece. Fifteen cent.” 

“Very well; you may sharpen them all,” 
said Molly, delighted with the bargain ; for 
her mamma had expected to pay a quarter 
of a dollar. 

The scissors-grinder began to work the 
treadles ; the treadles began to twirl the band ; 
the band began to move the wheel ; the wheel 
began to turn the grindstone ; and the grind- 
stone began to whet the steel. Meanwhile 
the children of the neighborhood gathered 
around the cart to see what was going on, 
and the donkey went to sleep, — drooping 
his great wings of ears lower and lower, till 
even little Donald could behold their white 
linings. 

“ Burro’s ’ead is ’eavy, don’t you s’pose ? ” 
asked one rosy-cheeked urchin, pulling at 
Weezy’s frock. 


HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 2 / 

**Who is that queer-talking little kid?” 
whispered Kirke to Paul. 

“That? Oh, that’s Harry Hobbs, a little 
English boy that lives in the green-house 
round the corner. He’s forever dropping h’s, 
and putting them on where they don’t belong. 
Calls himself ’Arry ’Obbs ; and his fat little 
sister Essie there beside him, he calls Hessie!” 

“ Does his mother talk that way ? ” queried 
Molly, who had overheard. 

“ His Aunt Ruth does. He and Essie live 
with her. Their mother is dead.” 

“ Poor little things ! I hope their aunt is 
good to them.” 

“Oh, yes; she’s good as pie, — just about. 
I, mean she’s crusty^' returned Paul, drawing 
down his face. 

Molly moved away to speak to the strangely 
dressed, dumpy little orphans ; and Kirke took 
occasion to question Paul on a subject near 
his heart, namely, — fishing. Did Paul know 


28 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


where there were any brooks ? Would he go 
trouting ? 

Paul laughed. 

“ Why, we don’t have brooks about here 
in the dry season ; and the river runs bottom 
side up. We might hire a boat, though, and 
fish in the bay.” 

Papa doesn’t want me to go out in a boat 
till he’s well enough to go with me,” replied 
Kirke soberly. 

“ Oh ! I tell you what we can do. We can 
take the train for La Jolla some day, and 
see the seine-fishing. That’ll be great fun.” 

“Molly and I’ll go with you, perhaps,” said 
Weezy sweetly. 

“ It wouldn’t be a bad plan to take the girls 
along,” cried Paul ; “ and Pauline is always 
ready for a lark. Pauline’s my sister. She’s 
thirteen, and so’m I. We’re twins, you know.” 

Long after the scissors-grinder had finished 
his work and led away the drowsy burro, the 


HOP KEE AND THE NEIGHBORS 29 

boys kept on talking ; and they were still 
talking when Hop Kee came to say that 
luncheon was served. 

As Kirke entered the dining-room, Molly 
looked up reproachfully, — 

“ It was your turn this morning to take 
care of Donald,” she said ; and you never 
gave him so much as a drink of water after 
that boy came. Don’t you think you’ve been 
shirky ? ” 

“ Sort of, maybe,” admitted he with a shrug. 

But you mustn’t count it in, Molly. I was 
having a jolly time with Paul Bradstreet. He 
has been telling me about some of his father’s 
voyages. His father is a sea-captain, but 
hasn’t been abroad since Paul’s mother died.” 


30 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


CHAPTER III 

LUNCHING OUT-OF-DOORS 

Pauline Bradstreet put on her best hat 
the very next afternoon, and came over to 
call upon Molly. 

“ Pm so glad to think you are going to 
live in this house,” she said cordially, as she 
shook hands. ‘‘ Paul is sure I shall like 
you.” 

I hope you will,” answered Molly, blush- 
ing, and twirling her ring. 

“ Paul and I nearly always like the same 
people,” continued Pauline, who had seen 
more of the world than Molly, and was not 
bashful in the least. 

Maybe that’s because you’re twins,” sug- 
gested Molly. 


LUNCHING OUT-OF-DOORS 


31 


“Maybe it is; but isn’t it queer that we 
look so different ? I’m so black, and Paul is 
so white, — where he isn’t red, I mean. He 
burnt his face to a blister yesterday, riding 
pony-back to the Old Mission.” 

“What a pity! I’m always blistering my 
face, and Kirke is always teasing me about 
it. Does your brother tease you } ” 

“ He tries, but it isn’t much fun ; I pretend 
not to care. I was vexed though, to have 
him go by himself to the Mission, when papa 
would have taken us both in the surrey.” 

“ Is the Mission very, very old } ” asked 
Molly, beginning to feel at her ease. 

“ Old ? yes, indeed. It was built more 
than a hundred years ago,” chattered Paul- 
ine, watching the sunbeams at play in Molly’s 
auburn braids. “Some time I’ll get papa to 
drive us all out there.” 

She was as good as her word ; and a few 
days later brought her father to visit his 


32 


YOUNG MASTER KJRKE 


new neighbors, and arrange an excursion for 
the following Saturday. 

Promptly at nine o’clock on the morning 
appointed, Captain Bradstreet drove up to 
Mr. Rowe’s side door in a three-seated rus- 
set surrey, drawn by two russet horses in 
russet leather harnesses. 

“We’re all ready. Captain Bradstreet, all 
but Kirke, and he isn’t much ?/;/ready,” cried 
Weezy, fluttering down the steps in a cardi- 
nal woollen dress and a broad-brimmed hat 
of cardinal felt. 

“That suits me. I’m rough and ready my- 
self,” returned the bluff captain, helping the 
two sisters to the middle seat in front of 
Paul and Pauline. 

“ Where’s the picnic } ” queried Weezy, peer- 
ing sharply about. 

“Alice yight,” cried Hop Kee, shuffling 
along from the kitchen with a large luncheon 
basket in his hand. 


LUNCHING OUT-OF-DOORS 


33 


“ It’s good and heavy, Hop. Hope you’ve 
put in the' caramel cake,” said Kirke, coming 
out buttoning his jacket. 

Hop Kee grinned from ear to ear, but all 
he said was “ Good-by.” 

I believe ‘ good-by ’ is the only English he 
is sure of,” remarked Molly gayly, as he po- 
litely backed himself into the screened porch. 

Do you see, Pauline, how he has wound 
his cue around his head to-day } It looks 
like a little turban.” 

“The Chinamen are apt to twist their cues 
up that way when they’re at work,” answered 
Pauline, making room for the basket between 
herself and Paul. 

“And when they’re out in the wind they 
sometimes tie them round their hats to keep 
them on,” said Paul. 

“To keep what on, Paul — their cues ” 
asked Pauline demurely. 

“ No ; their hats, Miss Stupid. By the way. 


34 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


does anybody know where the Chinamen got 
the notion of wearing pigtails ? ” 

“ Hop Kee said the China king made ’em 
wear them,” laughed Molly as the horses 
started ; “ but I’ve heard ’twas the Tartars 
ages ago.” 

“ I wouldn’t have worn a pigtail for any- 
body,” cried Kirke fiercely. “No, sir; I 
wouldn’t have worn a pigtail if they’d cut 
my head off.” 

“ After they’d cut your head off how coidd 
you have worn a pigtail } ” retorted Paul, amid 
a chorus of laughter at Kirke’s expense. 

“You mustn’t mind my boy’s fun. Master 
Kirke. Paul is a blunt fellow like his old 
father,” observed Captain Bradstreet, with 
a fond glance at his son, whom he closely 
resembled ; only his skin was redder than 
Paul’s, and his hair whiter. 

“Oh! Kirke can stand a joke, papa,” said 
Paul. “ He isn’t a molly-coddle.” 


LUNCHING OUT-OF-DOORS 

“ Isn’t he, Molly ? That’s for you to say,” 
retorted Pauline archly. 

She was looking at a small brown cottage 
by the wayside, half concealed behind tomato 
vines that sprawled to the roof. 

‘‘That’s where Mrs. Carillo lives, Molly,” 
she went on; “the Spanish woman I told 
you about who sells such exquisite drawn- 
work. See, there’s Manuel staking out the 
cow.” 

“What a handsome boy, Pauline! Is he 
Mrs. Carillo’s son } ” 

“ Why, yes ; he’s a newsboy. Haven’t you 
met him ? ” asked Pauline in a tone of surprise, 
as they began to descend the grade into the 
canyon. “ Hold on tight, Weezy, when we go 
around that bend in the road.” 

At sight of the narrow highway winding 
down the hillside like a spiral staircase with- 
out balusters, Weezy clung to Molly crying ; 
while Molly shrank to her own end of the 


36 YOUNG MASTER k'lRKE 

seat, which was on the side of the road 
hollowed into the cliff. 

“There’s nothing down here only just air, 
Molly,” exclaimed Weezy, peeping over the 
outer wheel, 

“Don’t look, Weezy, dear; it makes me dizzy 
to see you,” entreated Molly, grasping her 
little sister’s arm. 

“ You won’t be so dizzy when we get a little 
lower,” said Paul kindly, seeing how pale 
Molly’s face was under the navy-blue hat. 

“ Unless you go head first, Molly,” added 
mischievous Kirke, snatching at the limb of 
a tobacco-tree that leaned above the abyss. 

Ah, Kirke had sad reason afterward to 
remember that tree, with its branches droop- 
ing just out of reach, and yellow with trumpet- 
shaped blossoms ! But at this moment he was 
bent on teasing Molly. He could not under- 
stand why she should be giddy in high places. 
He and Weezy never were giddy. 


LUNCHING OUT-OF-DOORS 37 

“ I’m not dizzy a bit,” said Weezy presently; 
“ only I’m afraid the horses will turn somersits 
down the cannon ! ” 

“ Don’t fret about my horses, little girl,” 
responded Captain Bradstreet cheerily. “ I’ll 
keep them right side up.” 

‘‘ Will you } Oh ! then I don’t care. What 
makes the road wiggle so. Captain Brad- 
street } ” 

“The road wiggles, my dear, because the 
hill wiggles ; but in a few minutes we shall 
be in the valley.” 

They soon entered a level highway, skirting 
orchards of oranges, lemons, and figs, and 
presently crossing what seemed to be a bed 
of gravel with a pool in the middle. 

“This is the first mud-puddle we’ve found 
in California,” remarked Molly innocently, as 
the horses stopped to drink. 

“ Puddle ! ” shouted Paul and Pauline in 
a breath. “ Why this is the Silver Gate River. 
We’re at the ford ! ” 


38 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


How they all laughed ! Kirke said if they 
called that a ford, he’d like to show them the 
one near his grandfather’s parsonage, where 
the water would cover the hubs of the wagon- 
wheels. 

“ It’ll cover the whole wheels here, tires 
and all, after the winter rains come,” returned 
Paul, as soon as he could speak for giggling ; 
“but in the dry season the river hides it- 
self.” 

“ What do folks do with their boats then } ” 
asked Weezy, as they drove on. 

“ Do without ’em. Pussy,” answered Paul 
airily. “ Look, there is the Old Mission on 
the hill, beyond the olive grove.” 

“ That big brown thing ? I don’t think it’s 
a bit pretty,” remarked Weezy, with her usual 
candor. 

“ Nevertheless, some people consider it a 
very interesting ruin,” said Captain Bradstreet 
playfully. “Perhaps, little Miss Weezy, you 


LUNCHING OUT-OF-DOORS 39 

don’t know that the Indians helped to build 
that Mission ? ” 

“ Did they, Captain Bradstreet ? What 
for ? ” As if she wondered they should have 
taken the trouble. 

Oh, for a church, and for a school, and for 
other things that I can’t explain to you, my 
dear. Good Father Junipero and a few other 
Spanish monks planned the building, and aided 
in making it.” 

“The poor old monks must have had their 
hands full,” said Paul, when they had alight- 
ed in front of the Mission. “ I suppose 
the Indians didn’t know B from a broom- 
stick.” 

“ Hush, Paul ! oh, hush ! those boys will 
think you mean them,” whispered Pauline. 

The boys in question were a troop of 
straight-haired, brown-skinned youths, just dis- 
missed from the schoolhouse near by. 

“ One little, two little, three little Indians,” 


40 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


murmured Kirke softly. “Tve a great mind 
to ask them how they like fractions.” 

“ You’ll have to speak Indian then, or Span- 
ish,” said Paul wisely. “ Come, don’t fool 
with them ; I move we have something to 
eat.” 

“ I second the motion,” cried Kirke, drag- 
ging the baskets from the surrey. 

While the russet horses munched barley 
straw in a neighboring stable, the girls spread 
a white table-cloth upon the grass beside the 
crumbling adobe wall, and made ready the 
dinner. 

“ Oh, how exqint ! ” exclaimed Weezy, tip- 
ping over the guava jelly in trying to assist ; 
“Sal Lunn and turnippers, and frostin’-cake, 
and — oh — oh — sugar kisses. I want some 
of Hop Kee’s sugar kisses ! ” 

“ You must have a sandwich first,” said 
Molly, tucking a napkin under Weezy’s chin 
in a motherly way. “ And here comes 


LUNCHING OUT-OF-DOORS 


41 


Captain Bradstreet with a pitcher of new 
milk.” 

“ Let me fill your cups,” cried the captain 
blithely. “ We’ll drink to the memory of 
Father Junipero.” 

“The unearthly good priest who planted 
that orange orchard yonder,” said Kirke, hold- 
ing out his glass. 

“ The olive orchard that is the mother of 
all the others in California,” added Paul, laugh- 
ing. 

Then the party touched glasses and drank 
together ; after which they despatched their 
luncheon with remarkable appetites. 

“ Now we go into the Indian girls’ school 
to write our names in the visitors’ book,” said 
Captain Bradstreet, when Pauline had folded 
the table-cloth, and Kirke had put the baskets 
in the carriage. 

“ Me too } ” asked Weezy. 

“Certainly, if you wish,” answered the cap- 
tain smiling. 


42 


YOUNG MASTER! KIRKE 


Weezy did wish it very decidedly ; and be- 
fore they went home she had signed her name 
beneath the others in the large ledger. There 
it stands to this day, in great, uneven capitals, 
“Louise Rowe, Gallatin, Mass.” 


THE MERRY FIVE 


43 


CHAPTER IV 

“ THE MERRY FIVE ” 

We’re going to Mexico ! — to Mex-i-co ! ” 
sang Weezy, dancing backward down the 
street. 

“Hear the kid ! You’d think she was going 
to Jericho,” cried Kirke, following behind with 
Molly, Paul, and Pauline. They had named 
themselves “The Merry Five,” and were set- 
ting out on an important quest, — a quest for 
a dog. 

To be sure, the Rowe children already had 
collected quite a menagerie. Molly had a 
frisky yellow kitten named Ginger ; Kirke 
rejoiced in pigeons of various species ; and 
Weezy owned three funny horned toads, be- 
sides Snowdrop, a beautiful white rabbit. But 


44 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


what of these, so long as little Donald was 
destitute of pets ? Kirke, especially, felt it 
highly necessary to buy his brother a certain 
hairless Mexican dog that Paul Bradstreet 
knew about ; and in order to make this pur- 
chase, it took Paul, Pauline, Molly, Weezy, and 
himself, and a ride on the steam motor to Tia 
Juana, a little town half in California and half 
in Mexico. “The Merry Five” had chosen 
Saturday for the expedition, because it was 
a holiday ; and they now all went to school. 

“ You’ll be floating in the air yet if we don’t 
look out, little Miss Weezy,” said Paul, when 
they had reached the station, and he was help- 
ing her into the open car. “ Next time I fly 
my kite I must tie you to it, and it’ll be sure 
to go up.” 

“Yes; Weezy 'd make a pretty good Bob^' 
cried Kirke mischievously. “ She’s a regular 
^^^-o-link.” 

Pauline laughed gayly, as if he had said the 


THE MERRY FIVE 


45 


brightest thing in the world. It was as natural 
for her to laugh as for a full tea-kettle to boil 
over. When the engine whistled hoarsely, and 
Kirke remarked that it had taken cold, she 
laughed again. The others joined in, and they 
whizzed away toward Mexico in the gayest of 
spirits. Paul knew the road well, and acted 
as showman. 

“ Do you see that tall Monterey cypress 
in front of the brown house } ” he asked 
presently, as they rumbled by a thrifty orange 
ranch. “ Our minister preached under that 
one Sunday last summer.” 

“ And don’t you remember what a crowd 
there was, Paul } ” interrupted Pauline, pinning 
up a rent in her skirt ; “ and how they all 
got their chairs under the shade of that tree ? ” 

“Yes; and papa told us the cypress*- was 
only twenty-five years old.” 

“ It’s very large of its age,” remarked Molly 
dryly. 


46 . 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


. On they rattled ; past fragrant orange or- 
chards, where water was running in little fur- 
rows between the rows of trees ; past “ truck 
patches,” where blue-frocked Chinamen were 
digging among their vegetables ; and so on 
to brown, rugged hillsides. 

“ I smell southernwood,” sniffed Weezy. 

“ They call that ‘ old man ’ here,” said Paul ; 
“and those clumsy, bristly things yonder are 
prickly pears.” 

“We saw those in Mission Valley,” cried 
Molly. “They’re regular out-of-doors pin- 
cushions.” 

“They bear pins all the year round, and 
pears in the summer,” returned Paul, picking 
up Pauline’s pocket-handkerchief. 

“ Good to eat } ” asked Weezy. 

“Ye-es; if you like ’em. There! ’twon’t be 
long before we see Aunt Jane.” 

“Are we going to see your Aunt Jane, 
Paul } ” cried Weezy in surprise. “ Molly said 
we were just going to Mexico.” 


THE MERRY FIVE 


47 


^^Well, we are going to Mexico. Aunt Jane • 
lives in Mexico ; that is, part of her lives 
there.” 

“ Paul is only joking, Weezy,” laughed 
Pauline, as the motor stopped at the end of 
the line. “ He’s talking about Tia Juana. 
Tia Juana is the Spanish name for Aunt 
Jane.” 

I think ‘Aunt Jane’ might be tidier,” said 
Molly in disgust. 

They were alighting in a sand-bank ; and 
besides two or three tired-looking houses 
there was nothing to see except some beach- 
wagons with horses attached to them. 

“ This is the American side of ‘ Aunt 
Jane ; ’ the Mexican side is across the river,” 
explained Paul, leading Weezy to the largest 
wagon, near which stood Reuben, the mulatto 
guide. 

Reuben was beckoning and shouting, “ This 
wav, ladies and gentlemen, to Mexico, the 


48 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


post-office, the custom-house, and the curio 
store ! This way, ladies and gentlemen, to 
Mexico ! ” 

Weezy’s eyes sparkled. Mexico was just 
what she wanted to see. 

“That man’s a bouncer, Molly, isn’t he.^” 
whispered Kirke, as the four horses plunged 
forward through the sand. “ His sombrero 
would smother a bonfire.” 

“What possesses him to wear that red- 
white-and-green ribbon on his coat.^” asked 
Molly. 

“ Oh, that’s a badge ! ” said Paul. “ Those 
are the Mexican colors, you know.” 

They were now crossing a shallow stream, 
which Paul informed them was the Tia Juana 
River ; and in the time it takes to tell it they 
had reached the further shore. 

“ Hurrah ! ” shouted Kirke, waving his hat ; 
“we’ve left the United States behind us! 


We’re in Mexico I ” 


THE MERRY FIVE 


49 


Weezy did not join in the shout. She was 
ready to cry from disappointment. “ Why, 
Mexico looks like anywhere else ! ” she ex- 
claimed ; “ only it looks ever so much worse ! 

I thought we should have to climb over a 

• 

fence, or go across a bridge, or something ! ” 
While Paul and Kirke ran off to find the 
dog’s master, the girls kept on in the barge 
to the post-office. Here Molly bought a 
Mexican stamp, and mailed a letter which 
she had written the day before to her friend 
Lucy Dutton. 

After that they all went to the custom- 
house to have their handkerchiefs stamped 
with the Mexican coat-of-arms ; and thence 
to the curio store, where Pauline would have 
spent all the money in her purse, had not 
Reuben appeared with the wagon at the 
moment he did. Paul and Kirke had already 
taken their seats, and Kirke held by the 
collar the coveted little dog. 


50 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ Oh, oh ! isn’t he queer ? ” cried Weezy. 

“ He’s too comical for anything,” chimed 
in Molly. What’s his name, Kirke } ” 

Zip.” 

Looks as if they’d shaved him, and then 
rubbed him with sandpaper ! ” exclaimed Paul- 
ine. “ Not a hair on him, except that little 
tuft at the tip of his tail.” 

“He’s a homely little beast, all but his 
tail,” said Kirke. 

“What if he is.?” retorted Paul. “They 
say, ‘All’s well that ends well.’ And then 
they laughed in chorus over the new purchase ; 
and agreed that however bright and winning 
his dogship might be, he certainly was not 
handsome. 

After they had entered the motor, a young 
Mexican boy came in with a tray of what 
looked liked twists of wet corn-husks. Paul 
bought several of these, and passed them 
around 


THE MERRY FIVE 


51 


‘‘Hot tomallis ; taste,” said he, tearing one 
open for Weezy. 

“ I don’t want to,” cried she, drawing back. 

“ How rude, Weezy, when Paul bought them 
for us ! ” whispered Molly in her ear. 

“They’re good, / think,” said Kirke, eat- 
ing his own with relish. “ What’s in ’em, 
anyhow, Paul ? ” 

“Chicken and Indian meal. Then they’re 
boiled, — oh, yes, and chilli.” 

“ Chilly do you call ’em ? Now, / call ’em 
hot C exclaimed Kirke, pretending not to know 
that by chilli Paul had meant red pepper. 

And then all laughed again at the silly 
little play upon words, because all were so 
jolly. 

“I motion that we go to La Jolla next 
Saturday,” said Paul an hour later, as “ The 
Merry Five” were about to separate. 

But Molly shook her head. 

“It wouldn’t be fair to ask mamma. She 


52 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


hasn’t found any nurse-girl yet, and Donald 
is as cross as a bear.” 

„ “ Can’t Harry Hobbs play with him } ” 

Oh, Harry is too little to be trusted ! ” 

I know what’ll be nice,” interrupted 
Weezy. “For us to go on my birthday.” 

“Will it come on a Saturday.? Are you 
sure .? ” 


“Yes, sure. Mamma said so. Mamma 
looked it up in the colander'^ 

“ Did she, Weezy .? Then of course she 
must know,” returned Pauline, with a sly 
wink at the other, three ; and Weezy never 
suspected that she should have said “calen- 
dar.” 

The little blunderer had turned aside to 
look at the handsome newspaper carrier then 
approaching. 

“ Manuel Carillo is a very quick boy,” she 
said, watching while he rolled up a newspaper 
and threw it at the house opposite them. 


THE MERRY FIVE 


53 


He’s a good fellow, let me tell you,” ob- 
served Paul. “ By the way, Kirke, I wonder - 
if he won’t know who’ll sell you a burro ? I’ll ^ 
ask him, now I think of it.” * 

I wish you would,” replied Kirke eagerly. 

Paul was so kind and “ chummy,” he 
thought. Of Manuel he never thought at all. 

It never occurred to Kirke that of the two 
lads, Paul Bradstreet would really have less 
to do with his life in California than Manuel 
Carillo, the Spanish boy. 

Manuel is getting around with his papers 
early to-day,” remarked Pauline, as Paul darted 
across the street. “ I’m afraid his mother is 
sick again.” 

“My papa was sick once,” put in Weezy ; 
“awful sick with ammonia!' 

“ Oh, Mrs. Carillo isn’t so ill as that,” re- 
turned Pauline lightly ; “ but she brings on 
hard headaches by doing yards and yards of 
fine embroidery. There ! Manuel is hurrying 
along.” 


54 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ He has heard of a burro, Kirke ! ” cried 
Paul, rushing back. “ He says if you’ll go 
over to his house in the morning he’ll tell 
you about it.” 

'‘Bravo! I’ll be at the canyon before break- 
fast.” 

“ Then don’t make a great racket in get- 
ting up, Kirke, and wake everybody,” pleaded 
Molly, halting in front of Captain Bradstreet’s 
door. “ Good-by, Paul. Good-by, Pauline.” 

“ Bow-wow-wow,” barked Zip. 

“Wait a second, please,” cried Paul, gently 
laying hold of Molly’s long braid. “Before 
we break up the party, let’s have a rousing 
cheer for ‘ The Merry Five.’ ” 

“ Agreed,” answered Kirke, swinging his 
hat. And all shouted together, three times 
over, — 

“ T-h-e — M-e-r-r-y — F-i-v-e, 

Ha-ha-ha I ” 


MANC/EL'S MISHAP 


55 


CHAPTER V 
Manuel's mishap 

Zip, the little Mexican dog, was not home- 
sick himself, but from the moment of his 
arrival at his new home he made Snowdrop as 
homesick as possible. He delighted in frisk- 
ing about the rabbit’s pen, and barking till the 
timid white creature trembled with fright. 

“ And Snowdrop never answers him back, 
either. Isn’t Zip real naughty.?” Weezy would 
cry indignantly, and drive the dog away. 

Donald, also, was less pleased with his gift 
than had been hoped. He did not know what 
to make of a quadruped with a bark so rough 
and a skin so smooth, quite as smooth as that 
of Hop Kee. In fact, for the first day or two 
the baby was afraid of Zip. But when he saw 


56 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

how Molly and Kirke and Weezy stroked the 
dog without being hurt, he said, — 

“Doggie — no — bite — baby;” and even at- 
tempted to pat Zip’s cold little nose. 

After this the two became friends, and ran 
many races together around the foot of the 
windmill. 

“ Zip likes Donald ; but he likes Kirke a 
great deal better. I say that isn’t fair when 
Kirke isn’t his master,” mused Weezy one 
morning, not long after the trip to Mexico. 

She was riding her new tricycle, and would 
have been glad of Zip’s company. It piqued 
her that he had preferred to tear off to the 
canyon with Kirke and Hoppity, the newly 
purchased burro. 

For, thanks to Manuel Carillo, Kirke now 
had his heart’s desire, — a burro and cart. 

He had owned the burro exactly thirty-five 
hours, and had shown it to as many of his 
acquaintances as daylight had permitted ; and 


MANUEL^S MISHAP 


S7 


this morning he felt it to be his duty, as well 
as his pleasure, to show it to Mrs. Carillo, 
whom he had met several times. It was to 
her house that he was jogging on Hoppity’s 
back. 

Mrs. Carillo was well again, and Kirke was 
to ask her to make his mother a dozen finger- 
bowl napkins of the Mexican drawn-work. 
When he reached the entrance of the canyon, 
Mrs. Carillo spied him from her window be- 
hind the thrifty tomato-vines, and nodded and 
smiled. She was a small, charming Spanish 
woman, who could speak little English, but 
seemed to talk with her hands and her beau- 
tiful black eyes. 

“Sew.!^ Oh, yes; I sew all the days,” she 
said presently, after she had admired the burro 
to Kirke’s satisfaction, and Kirke had made 
her understand his mother’s errand. “ Gladly, 
oh, yes, gladly will I work for the mamma.” 

Then in her pretty, broken way she went 


$8 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

on to tell Kirke that her eyes were getting 
tired with the so many fine stitches. Some 
day, when she and the dear Manuel had saved 
oh, so much money, they might buy a machine 
for the sewing, to rest the so tired eyes. He 
was a good boy, her Manuel. Oh, yes ! He 
sold the papers every afternoon, and brought 
to her the silver. Already it was a pile 
— so high — in the saucer under the blue 
bowl. 

Dearly as Kirke loved to listen to Mrs. 
Carillo, he was to-day impatient to exercise 
Hoppity ; and at the first pause he said good- 
by, and dashed on down the canyon, where 
Manuel was gathering dry twigs to boil the 
beans for dinner. 

“ Come and ride on my new burro, Manuel,” 
he shouted. *‘Jump up behind me, and try 
him.” 

“ He’s fine,” laughed Manuel, — the boy 
had his mother’s trick of laughing, — and he 


MANUEL 'S MISHAP 


59 


dropped his armful of wood, and sprang upon 
the burro. 

Hoppity shook his wise old head, as if to 
say that two boys on his back were one too 
many ; but Kirke did not heed him. Kirke 
knew that the donkey was a strong little 
animal, used to heavy burdens. 

“ If I had a switch I’d tickle him,” cried 
he, urging him along to the tobacco-tree they 
had passed in going to the Old Mission. 
“ I’ll see if I can’t break one off this lower 
branch.” 

Don’t believe you can reach,” returned 
Manuel, who had learned English at a Roman 
Catholic school. 

“ I can try, anyway,” said Kirke, halting 
under the tree, which grew on the outer edge 
of the road, next a precipice at least twenty 
feet deep. As he spoke, he clutched at the 
branch, but found it higher than it had ap- 
peared. 


6o 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ I must stand up,” he cried, mounting 
upon the saddle. 

‘‘Take care; you’ll fall!” exclaimed Manuel. 

“No, I sha’n’t.” 

“The burro may start.” 

“ Pooh I Who’s afraid } ” returned venture- 
some Kirke. Not himself, surely. He was 
as agile as a mountain goat. “ I can’t tear 
off a twig, though,” he added, after several 
vain efforts. “I’m not quite tall enough. 
You try, Manuel. You can do it; your arm 
is longer.” 

Manuel looked over into the canyon and 
shrugged his shoulders. 

“We’re too near the edge of the road.” 

“ Pooh ! ’twon’t take you two seconds, 
Manuel.” 

“ No ; I don’t dare.” 

“Don’t dare!” mimicked Kirke, flopping 
into the stirrups in great scorn. “ Before 
I’d be such a coward, Manuel Carillol” 





“ Keep him quiet? Of course I will.” 

T 


Pa^e 6 I 



-4 



MANUEL^S MISHAP 


6 1 


Oh, what would not Kirke have given a 
moment later if he could have taken back 
those words ! 

They aroused Manuel’s hot Spanish tem- 
per, and he struggled to his feet, shouting, — 
“ I’m not a coward ; but I don’t know your 
old burro yet, Kirke Rowe. Keep the ugly 
fellow quiet, will you ? ” 

“Keep him quiet? of course I will!” an- 
swered Kirke quickly, forgetting that it takes 
two to make a bargain, and that Hoppity 
had not been consulted. Perhaps the wise 
little beast objected to the boy’s securing a 
switch to whip him with ; or it may be that 
he objected simply to the nails in Manuel’s 
stout shoes. I only know this ; that the 
instant Manuel stood up, Hoppity suddenly 
started, and pitched him heels over head down 
the precipice ! 

Poor, poor Manuel I And wretched, wretched 
Kirke ] Who now was more afraid than he ? 


62 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


Leaping to the roadside, he shouted into the 
depths beneath, “Are you hurt, Manuel? 
Tell me, are you hurt ? Oh, mercy me ! why 
don’t you answer?” 

The response was a loud groan from Man- 
uel far below, doubled up under a clump of 
wild gooseberry-bushes. Kirke ran along the 
highway to an easier slope, and slid down to 
him, crying, — 

“Where did you hurt you, Manuel? Oh, 
did you break anything ? ” 

“My leg, Kirke. I’ve broken my leg,” 
wailed Manuel, making a vain attempt to rise. 

“ Oh, no ! that can’t be ; I don’t believe it ! ” 
gasped Kirke, frightened nearly out of his 
wits. “ You’ve bruised it awfully, you know ; 
but you can’t have broken it ! You don’t 
really think it’s broken ? ” 

He was even paler than Manuel, and 
Manuel was as pale as the darkness of his 
skin would allow. 


MANUEL^S MISHAP 


63 


“ Oh, I can’t move my leg, Kirke ! ” he 
cried. ** I say I can’t move it. Oh, do bring 
mamma ! ” 

“Yes, yes; I will. I’ll bring your mamma; 
I’ll bring the doctor ; I’ll bring everybody. 
Oh, oh, it was all my fault, Manuel ! I’m so 
mad — I mean I’m so sorry,” groaned Kirke, 
scrambling wildly up the cliff. 

In all the city there was not a more un- 
happy boy than he. If murderers felt as he 
did, he was sure he pitied them. 

Two men in a cart chanced to be passing 
along the grade. He got them to take Man- 
uel home. He hunted up the straying burro, 
and rode to bring Dr. Bray. He held band- 
ages while the fractured leg was being set. 
And after all this, when everything had been 
done for Manuel that could be done that day, 
Kirke ran home to his mother, and had a 
good cry. He wished he’d never seen Man- 
uel, or the burro, or Silver Gate City. He 


64 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

wished he had 7icvery never , NEVER been 
born. If it hadn’t been for him Manuel 

wouldn’t have fallen ; but now Manuel had 

broken his leg, and would be lame all his life, 
and perhaps he would die. 

O mamma! do you think Manuel will die ? ” 

Mrs. Rowe pitied her little son from the 
bottom of her heart, and felt that, however 

wrong he had been, this was no time for 

chiding. 

“ No, dear ; I do not believe Manuel will 
die because of his fall,” she said soothingly. 
“He is young and healthy, and you tell 
me the doctor called the fracture a slight 
one .? ” 

“Yes, mamma,” 

“ Papa and I must go to see Mrs. Carillo 
at once, and take her some money, and hire 
a nurse if one is needed.” 

“ Do you suppose Manuel can ever carry 
newspapers again ? ” 


MANUEL'S MISHAP 65 

Oh, I hope so, Kirke ! They would miss 
his small earnings sadly.” 

Kirke thought of the sewing-machine that 
Mrs. Carillo might now sigh for in vain, and 
gritted his teeth. Mr. Rowe was just entering 
with his overcoat on. 

“ Did Mrs. Carillo send word to the Jour- 
nal office about Manuel’s accident, Kirke } ” 
he inquired, looking at his watch. 

“ No, papa ; we didn’t any of us remember.” 

^‘Then they won’t have time to hire another 
boy in his place to-night. You’d better har- 
ness immediately, Kirke, and carry around 
Manuel’s newspapers.” 

“ But, papa. I’m so tired ; couldn’t ” — 

“ I know you’re tired, my son ; but certainly 
you ought to be willing to do Manuel this 
little favor. It is no more than just.” 

Kirke arose rather reluctantly. “ Oh, 
hum ! ” he cried, stretching his aching limbs, 
“ I don’t see why Manuel had to tumble. 


66 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


Why couldn’t he have held on by the tree ? 
I could ; ” which may have been the truth, 
for Kirke was a much more nimble lad than 
Manuel. Kirke passed Weezy in the hall 
without noticing her swelled eyelids ; and no- 
body had the heart to tell him that during 
the forenoon Zip had broken into Snowdrop’s 
pen, and shaken him within an inch of his 
life. 

“The dear boy feels this accident to Man- 
uel keenly,” said Mrs. Rowe to her husband, 
when Kirke was out of sight. 

“Yes; and he ought to feel it,” replied Mr. 
Rowe with earnestness. “ Kirke is far too 
reckless. He must be taught to have more 
care for others.” 

“ What should you think of requiring Rim 
to devote an hour a day to reading to Man- 
nel ? ” asked Mrs. Rowe. 

“ I think well of it. And how would it do 
to have him carry Manuel’s newspapers from 
this time on ? ” 


MANUEL 'S MISHAP 


67 


“Kirke has never been obliged to do any- 
thing of that sort,” said his tender-hearted 
mother ; “ wouldn’t it be hard for him ? ” 
“Not too hard; and unless the place is 
kept till Manuel is well again, Manuel may 
lose it.” 

On the road to Mrs. Carillo’s, Mr. and 
Mrs. Rowe talked the matter over, and de- 
cided that Kirke could make amends to Man- 
uel in no better way than by becoming his 
newspaper carrier. Kirke accepted the deci- 
sion meekly. He honestly did wish to atone 
as far as possible for his late mischief ; be- 
sides, he had found that delivering papers 
was not so bad, after all. 


68 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


CHAPTER VI 
kirke’s amends 

Kirke had gone to bed with the most gen- 
erous resolutions ; but, as every boy knows, 
resolutions, like ripe peaches, will not always 
keep over night. He awoke tired and cross 
from his unusual exertions of .the day before, 
and the moment he opened his eyes saw a 
half-dozen reasons for not delivering papers 
for Manuel. 

First, he did not wish to spare the time. 
Were not the hours between the close of 
school and the six o’clock dinner the very 
hours when he and Paul and the rest of the 
team wanted to play shinny ? Then, again, 
though he would have been ashamed to con- 
fess it, Kirke felt a little unwilling to put 


KIRKE'S AMENDS 69 

himself in the place of a boy so poorly dressed 
as the Spanish lad. 

“ My father will pay the doctor, and mam- 
ma’ll send nice things for Manuel to eat. 
Why should I bother my head about those 
old newspapers.?” Kirke argued with him- 
self as he ran down to breakfast. “ I get 
precious little time out of school, anyway. 
Haven’t I been helping take care of Don- 
ald till lately.?” 

But if Kirke had formed any idea of beg- 
ging to be excused from his new duties, he 
gave it up the moment he entered the dining- 
room and heard his papa say, so affection- 
ately, — 

“ Good-morning, my dear boy ; I’ve just 
been telling your mamma that I’m proud of 
you.” 

“ Proud of me, papa .? ” 

“Yes, my son,” returned his father, lay- 
ing his thin, white hand fondly upon Kirke’s 


70 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

shoulder, “ I’m proud of you ; not because you 
have been a naughty boy,” — Kirke winced, 
— “but because you are trying cheerfully to 
repair the wrong you have done. It’s manly 
in a lad to be eager to make amends.” 

Kirke blushed to remember how he had 

« 

just been grumbling to himself. He knew 
that such praise was more than he deserved 
at present, but he meant to earn it in the 
future. 

“I’ll go right up to ask how Manuel is 
this morning ; wouldn’t you, papa 1 ” he said, 
after they were seated at table. 

“ By all means, Kirke ; and if he is not able 
to talk, perhaps his mother can tell you what 
his task is.” 

“ I know pretty well already, papa,” replied 
Kirke, buttering the lower half of his gem- 
cake for Weezy, who considered this her due. 
She called it the “ cribby side,” because it 
had four square corners like her crib. 


KIRKE 'S AMENDS 


71 


And, O Kirke, please ask Mrs. Carillo 
for some call-Jlower for my Snowdrop,” said 
she. “ Poor Snowdrop can’t eat. He only 
winks like this. That’s every single thing 
he does.” 

“Yes, Weezy,” answered Kirke; “I’ll get 
the cauliflower if you’ll give Zip and Ginger 
their breakfasts while I’m gone.” 

The boy stayed at Mrs. Carillo’s only long 
enough to learn that Manuel had passed a 
restless night, and to make sure where to 
leave all the newspapers ; then he brought 
home the cauliflower, and rushed to school. 

After the close of the afternoon session 
he harnessed Hoppity into the cart, and drove 
to the Jotmtal office for a pile of Eventing 
Journals, With this beside him on the seat, 
and the reins between his knees, he started 
upon his rounds, rolling up the printed sheets, 
one by one, and tossing them out at the houses 
where they were due. The day before some 


72 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


had hit wide of the mark, but to-day Kirke 
aimed more surely ; and by the end of the 
week he had become expert in throwing. 

It did not help the matter in the least 
for Kirke, when he learned that Paul was 
strongly opposed to “ peddling.” 

“Why don’t you go round grinding scissors ? 
Or perhaps you could sell some second-hand 
oranges, you old Sell-Kirke,” sneered Paul. 

And Pauline wounded Molly deeply by re- 
marking that Kirke’s present employment was 
not “nice.” She had always thought before 
that Kirke was “a little gentleman.” 

But when Molly repeated this to her mamma, 
Mrs. Rowe only smiled quietly, and said that 
it was very “ nice ” to do a kind act ; and that 
to herself and to his papa, Kirke had never 
seemed more like “ a little gentleman ” than 
since becoming a carrier. 

Sometimes on his drives Kirke took with 
him Harry Hobbs, the little English boy. 


KIRKE'S AMENDS 


73 


Harry and his roly-poly sister, Essie, lived 
with their Aunt Ruth in the green board-and- 
paper cottage around the corner. They had 
lived there two years ; ever since Miss Ruth 
Hobbs “ buried her silver in the ground.” 
For, like many of her neighbors. Miss Ruth 
had spent all her money for land, which she had 
hoped to sell again at a higher price, but which 
she could not sell at any price whatsoever. 

So now she was poor, and obliged to work 
hard to support herself and the orphans. She 
did fine washing for Mrs. Rowe; and Harry 
often teased to go for this, in the hope of 
catching a drive with Kirke. 

Not that Harry ever asked for the drive, — 
oh, no ! he was much too well-mannered. But 
he thought it no harm to hang about the stable 
while Kirke was harnessing, to be on hand 
in case Kirke should say, — 

“ Want an airing, little Britisher ? Well, 
hop in. Hoppity will take us.” 


74 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


One morning after Kirke had been carrying 
newspapers several weeks, — sometimes cheer- 
fully, sometimes not, — he and Harry whisked 
out of the yard in the cart past Weezy on 
her new roller skates. 

“ Wish I had some of those thinks,” sighed 
Harry. He had his Aunt Ruth’s funny Eng- 
lish habit of saying “thinks” for “things.” 

“Maybe you’ll have some at Christmas.” 

“ No, I sha’n’t ! I sha’n’t ’ave anythink. 
Santa Claus doesn’t come to Haunt Ruth’s 
’ous, hever.” 

“ Oh, perhaps he’ll come this winter, Harry ; 
you don’t know,” returned Kirke in a grand- 
fatherly tone. When he talked with five-year- 
old Harry he felt quite aged, and very, very 
wise. 

“ No ; Santa won’t come a-nigh us, ’ere. 
Haunt Ruth says so,” persisted Harry dole- 
fully, as they turned aside for a ranch wagon 
filled with live turkeys. “ I guess Santa 


KIRKE^S AMENDS 


75 


doesn’t know the way. Back heast he came 
’eaps of times. He slided down the chimney, 
and put thinks into our stockings.” 

‘‘ What did he look like, Harry } ” 

‘‘Oh, I never saw him! Mamma never waked 
me. That was when mamma was ’ome. Now 
she’s flied up to ’eaven.” 

“Yes, I know; it’s too bad,” replied Kirke, 
sorry for the motherless boy, but at a loss 
how to say so. 

“ Wish my mamma hadn’t flied up to ’eaven. 
Wish she’d pull hoff ’er big wings, and drop 
down again ! ” 

Kirke stopped the grieved little mouth with 
a shelled peanut. 

“Maybe, though, mamma couldn’t find us 
hout ’ere,” pursued Harry, as soon as he could 
speak. “ S’pose she could } Santa Claus 
can’t.” 

“ Santa Claus can’t find you, hey, poor 
little kid.^” muttered Kirke, hurling a news- 


76 YOUNG MASTER KIKKE 

paper fiercely at the door they were passing. 

“ Santa Claus had better find you all the same, 
if he’s any kind of a gentleman.” 

A brilliant thought had seized Kirke, and 
nothing would do but he must share it speedily 
with Molly ; so the moment he had got rid 
of his papers, he whipped up the burro and 
turned toward home. Hoppity happened to 
be unusually hungry, and dashed around the 
corner by Miss Hobbs’s cottage at such a pac^ 
that he nearly ran over Harry’s tow-headed 
sister. 

‘‘ Why, Essie Hobbs ! What are ygu doing 
here in the middle of the road ? ” exclaimed 
Kirke, drawing in the reins. 

I’se making tookieSy' said Essie sweetly. 

She held an old tin gravy-strainer in her 
hand, and kept on sifting sand through it as 
unmoved as an hour-glass. 

“ My patience ! you are a cool one,” cried 
Kirke, himself all of a tremble. “ I came 
within one of knocking you down.” 


KIRKE^S AMENDS 


77 


‘‘Haunt Ruth ’ll switch you, Hessie, if you 
play in the street,” said Harry, climbing from 
the cart. 

“ And serve you right, too, Essie,” shouted 
Kirke, as he drove on. 

He forgot that he had something special 
to say to Molly. The adventure had banished 
that from his mind even before he came upon 
her and Weezy by the rabbit’s pen, where 
Weezy was sobbing with all her might. 

“ O Kirke ! Snowdrop is dead ; my dear, 
pretty, soft Snowdrop. Oh, I do feel so bad ! ” 

“ Is he. dead } ” said Kirke soberly. “ I’m 
ever so sorry. But never mind, Weezy. We’ll 
ask papa to buy you another rabbit.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh ! I don’t want another rabbit ; 
I want my onty donty Snowdrop.” 

“ Don’t, Weezy dear ; don’t cry so,” said 
Molly, drying her own eyes. “ Poor Snowdrop 
was so sick, you know. He never could have 
wanted to live with that red bite in his neck.” 


7S 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ Hor’ble old Zip! He bit my Snowdrop, 
and deaded him all up I ” wailed Weezy, weep- 
ing harder than ever. “ He ought to be deaded 
himself ; disgustable thing I ” 

Kirke and Molly exchanged glances. When 
Weezy fell to crying like this, something must 
be done about it, or she would make herself 
ill. 

“I tell you what, Weezy!” cried Kirke 
briskly ; “ we’ll give Snowdrop a grand, first- 
class funeral, and Zip sha’n’t be invited.” 

‘‘He’ll go,” sobbed Weezy; “I know he’ll 

go-" 

“ No, Weezy ; we won’t let him go. We’ll 
lock him into the stable.” 

Weezy’s sobs grew fainter. One wet red 
eye peeped over her wet white handkerchief. 

“We’ll ask the grocer for a box,” said Molly, 
“ and we’ll tack white cloth over it ; won’t we 
Kirke } and make Snowdrop a lovely little 
casket.” 


KIRKE'S AMENDS 


79 


** And put roses and chris-anthcnis on ? ” 

“Oh, yes! all the flowers that are going,” 
said Kirke; “and I’ll dig a grave down in the 
canyon, and line it with greens.” 

“ No, no; not any greens. I won’t have any 
greens,” cried Weezy, her tears flowing again. 

“ Kirke doesn’t mean spinach and dande- 
lions ; he means smilax and ferns,” interposed 
Molly quickly. “ And we’ll have a procession, 
and you shall invite Snowdrop’s friends.” 

“ Oh, good)^ goody I I’ll ask Paul and Pau- 
line, and Harry and Essie.” 

“And you shall be chief mourner, and wear 
crape,” said Molly, delighted to see her little 
sister smiling. 

The funeral occurred on the following morn- 
ing. Snowdrop, with a cluster of blue and 
white forget-me-nots upon his breast, lay in 
state in his white casket in the rabbit-pen till 
the hour of burial, when Kirke and Paul lifted 
the casket into the back part of the burro-cart, 


8o 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


and heaped upon it the flowers collected since 
breakfast by Weezy. 

“ What’s in that paper bag in your hand, 
Weezy?” asked Molly, as the boys mounted 
the cart and set off at the head of the pro- 
cession. 

“ Oh, something,” said Weezy mysteriously. 
She followed close behind the cart on her tri- 
cycle ; next went Pauline and Molly on their 
bicycles ; and last of all trudged Harry Hobbs, 
alone on foot. Hessie couldn’t come,” he ex- 
plained, because she wasn’t big enough for a 
funeral.” Each child bore on the left arm a 
white rosette. Since Mary Queen of Scots 
wore white after the death of her young hus- 
band, Molly thought it highly proper that they 
should mourn in white for dear, innocent Snow- 
drop. 

Ginger followed the train to the pepper- 
tree, mewing as plaintively as could have been 
desired ; but out of respect to Weezy’s feelings 


KIRKE^S AMENDS 


8 


Zip was not allowed to appear. He had been 
confined in the stable to repent of his naughti- 
ness, and, judging by his howls, was already 
very sorry. 

As they moved slowly up the street, Paul 
whistled a funeral march, and Kirke beat time 
with his drum to add solemnity to the occa- 
sion. 

Manuel is peeping out of the window. I 
guess he thinks this is a pretty nice funeral,” 
said Weezy in a gratified tone, as they left 
their wheels at the entrance of the canyon and 
walked in single file to the open grave. 

Kirke carried the casket, and Paul helped 
him lower it into the hole with Weezy’s skip- 
ping-rope. 

“Wait a minute ! ” cried Weezy, as Kirke was 
about to shovel in the dirt. And she dropped 
into the grave the contents of the paper bag, — 
a few stalks of Snowdrop’s cauliflower. 

Then the boys filled in the earthy and 


82 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


smoothed it into a shapely mound, which the 
girls strewed with flowers ; and everything 
having been done decently and in order, they 
all gave three groans for Snowdrop, and quietly 
came away. 

But in passing out of the canyon, Weezy 
turned, waved her hand toward the rabbit’s 
newly made bed, and cried softly, — 

Good-by, dear ! Good-by, my sweet, good, 
pretty little Snowdrop ! 


A PICNIC AT HOME 


83 


CHAPTER VII 

A PICNIC AT HOME 

“ See here, Molly ! I want to tell you 
something,” cried Kirke, stopping his sister 
under the star-tree on the lawn. 

The procession had disbanded, and little 
Harry Hobbs, the last to tear himself away, 
was skipping down the cemented walks edged 
by rows of houseleeks, called by the children 
*‘old hens and chickens.” 

“ I want to tell you something,” repeated 
Kirke, as Harry’s blue patched jacket faded 
from view. “ I thought of it yesterday when 
Plarry was jabbering about not having any 
Christmas presents. He’s about dying for a 
pair of roller skates. Suppose you and I 
chip in and buy some?” 


84 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ How much do they cost ? ” asked Molly. 

She was not a whit less generous than her 
brother ; but having a better idea of the 
value of money, she made her Christmas 
allowance go farther than he did. 

‘‘Papa can tell; he bought Weezy’s.” 

“ If we give something to Harry, Kirke, 
we must give something to Essie.” 

“ Oh, candy’ll do for her ! The little bunch 
won’t know the difference.” 

“ Well, we’ll try to get the skates, anyhow ; 
and if the money holds out, maybe we can 
find a tea-set for Essie when we take Weezy 
down-town.” 

This expedition down-town with Molly and 
Pauline was to be Weezy’s birthday outing, 
in place of the trip to La Jolla, which had 
been postponed on account of Kirke’s news- 
paper work. The girls were to show her 
the toy-shops and the curio stores, and com- 
plete the day’s delights by a visit to a ladies’ 


A PICNIC AT HOME 85 

restaurant and a treat of cake and ice-cream. 
Weezy looked forward to this entertainment 
with great pleasure, and talked about it many 
times during the week. 

“ Don’t be too much disappointed, my dear, 
if it should rain to-morrow,” her father said 
to her on Friday. “The rainy season is 
drawing near.” 

Mr. Rowe shivered as he spoke. Though 
he was gaining strength, he felt the least 
change in the weather keenly, and it seemed 
to him that a storm was brewing. 

The next morning — the morning of Weezy’s 
birthday — the sun kept out of sight, and the 
sky, once so blue, was mottled and blurred 
as if it had been rubbed by a soiled eraser. 
The only bright object about the house was 
yellow-coated Ginger, who darted restlessly 
from room to room like a quivering sunbeam. 
Even she knew that a tempest was coming. 

“ I just ’spise black days,” grumbled Miss 


86 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


Weezy, wandering into the dusky dining-room, 
where Molly sat by a window, floating sea- 
mosses in a soup-plate of water. 

It was only the middle of the forenoon, and 
Weezy was sure that it ought to be tea-time. 

“ Papa says we must have rain to make the 
barley grow,” said Molly, slipping a square 
of white cardboard under a spray of reddish 
moss. 

“ Don’t like barley ; don’t want barley to 
grow,” returned Weezy pettishly, 

“Take care, little sister; don’t joggle my 
elbow.” 

Molly was spreading the moss upon the 
card with a soft camel’s-hair brush. 

“ What are you doing that for, Molly ? ” 

“Oh, I’m making a Christmas card for 
Inez Dutton. Paul brought me the moss 
from La Jolla.” 

“Phew! It smells like fish.” 

Weezy flattened her disdainful little nose 


A PICNIC AT HOME 8/ 

against the window pane, outside which the 
mist was falling. 

“ Oh, dear ! it’s missing^' said she. Then 
she uttered a cry of delight. “Come quick, 
quick, Molly ! Here’s the dearest little green 
hum-bird!” 

“ Where, oh, where ? ” exclaimed Molly, let- 
ting the card slip back into the plate. 

“ And he isn’t standing on his bill in the 
air, either, a-whizzing his little wings. There 
he is on the big heeltrope. See him, Molly } 
He’s roosting just like a biddy.” 

“ Yes, yes ; I see him now I Why, Weezy 
Rowe, I didn’t know a humming-bird knew 
how to keep still.” 

“ He’ll blow off. Oh, I’m afraid he’ll blow 
off 1 ” whispered Weezy, catching her breath, 
as a gust of wind shook the heliotrope bush. 

“Oh, no, he won’t, Weezy! He’s holding 
on to that branch with his toes.” 

“ But what if he should let go, Molly } ” 


88 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ He can’t let go while his knees are bent 
that way,” said Molly wisely. “Hens can’t 
either.” 

“Can’t.? Who told you so.?” 

“ Papa. When they sit down on their 
roosts they have to crook their toes. That’s 
why they don’t tumble off after they are 
asleep.” 

Weezy thought this very odd, but took 
care not to say so. She had a foolish dis- 
like to letting Molly know how much she 
could teach her. 

“That hum-bird has a red bib on,” she 
remarked, to change the subject. “There, 
now ! he’s Jlied away. The boys have come 
and scared him.” 

“What are the boys making such a noise 
about.?” asked Molly, taking up her brush. 

The mist had changed to sleet. Hailstones 
were falling, — great rattling hailstones. 

“ It’s an ice shower, Molly ! Oh, it’s an ice 


A PICNIC AT HOME 


89 


shower ! ” shouted Weezy, dancing out upon 
the porch where Paul and Kirke were cheer- 
ing and swinging their caps. 

“ Haven’t had anything like this here be- 
fore since I can remember ! ” cried Paul, 
pelting Kirke with a handful of the snowy 
crystals. 

Everybody was excited. Mr. Rowe, wrapped 
in an afghan, came to the doorway. Mrs. 
Rowe followed, with Donald clinging to her 
skirts. Molly flew past them bearing a big 
wooden tray and the new dust-pan. 

“ O mamma ! I’ve thought of something, — 
something splendid for Weezy, instead of the 
day down-town. I’ll make some ice-cream ; 
may I, and freeze it with hailstones } ” 

“How can you, Molly We haven’t any 
freezer, or any cream.” 

“Our cook buys cream of Mrs. Carillo,” 
said Paul. “ Now Manuel is laid up, Mrs. Ca- 
rillo sells her cream to save the bother of 
making butter.” 


90 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“I’ll get it, mamma, if Paul will go with 
me,” cried Kirke, who doted on ice-cream. 

“ Come ahead, Sellkirke ; I’ll bring it half 
the way,” said Paul. 

“And I’m certain I can freeze it,” added 
Molly, eager to display what she had learned 
in her cooking lessons at school. 

“ I’ve no objection to your trying, provided 
you don’t trouble Hop Kee,” returned her 
mother. “ How would you like to have a 
birthday spread for Weezy in your own room } ” 

“ And invite Paul and Pauline ? That would 
be fine, mamma,” said Molly. 

“A picnic at home! Oh, oh I I’m going to 
have a picnic at home,” shouted little Miss 
Weezy in high glee. And all the family re- 
joiced to see the child happy. 

By this time the ground had become quite 
white. The boys collected the hailstones in 
as many bowls as they could lay their hands 
on, and then dashed off to the canyon. 


A PICNIC AT HOME 


91 


While Mrs. Carillo went away to skim 
the cream, they remained with Manuel in 
the kitchen, which also served for dining- 
room and parlor. The sick lad was bolstered 
on the lounge, with his injured limb encased 
in what is called a plaster cast. He seemed 
rather proud of this cast, and made the boys 
feel how stiff and hard it was, — almost like 
marble. 

“ Looks as if you were turning into a 
statue, Manuel, beginning at that leg,” jested 
Paul. 

“There isn’t much fun in it,” returned 
Manuel, slightly aggrieved. 

Wasn’t it bad enough to have a broken 
leg, without having to be joked about it ? 

“Fun in it No; I guess not, Manuel,” 
cried Kirke, wincing at the least allusion to 
Manuel’s mishap. “ But aren’t you feeling 
better > ” 

“Better? Oh, yes; the dear Manuel has 


92 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


no more the fever,” said Mrs. Carillo, coming 
in with the pail of cream. 

She had rejected Mrs. Rowe’s offer to pro- 
cure Manuel a nurse, preferring to take care 
of her boy herself ; and Kirke observed that 
the “ so-tired eyes ” were red from watching. 
Oh, dear, dear, if the woman only had a sew- 
ing machine ! Kirke wished he had money 
enough to buy her that one she wanted ! 
How fine it would be to give it to her that 
very day ! 

After the cream had been carried home, 
and sweetened and flavored by Molly, Kirke 
packed the tin pail in a tub, and crowded 
about it layers of salt and of hailstones. 
Then, turn and turn about, he and Paul 
twirled the pail by the handle, removing the 
cover so often to peep within, that the won- 
der was that the cream ever froze. But it 
really couldn’t help freezing where there 
were so many hailstones; and when it had 


A PICNIC AT HOME 


93 


become stiff as a snowdrift, Molly put a 
blanket over it, — not to keep it warm, but 
to keep it cold. 

“Now, Weezy, dear,” she said, “you and 
I must get our room ready for company.” 

It was a dear little room, opening from 
their chamber, and also from the upper hall. 
It had a grate in one corner, and a bay 
window in the other ; and near the ceiling, 
from the window to the chimney, were fes- 
tooned ribbons of red, green, and orange, 
the State colors. These ribbons divided the 
room into two equal parts ; and Weezy kept 
her things on the right side, and Molly 
kept hers on the left. It was their own 
little parlor, for themselves and their particu- 
lar friends. 

“You clear your table, and I’ll clear mine,” 
said Molly briskly, putting her work-basket 
and drawing-materials tidily away on the 
closet shelf- 


94 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


Weezy skipped behind with her apron full 
of dolls and paint-boxes, which she dumped 
helter-skelter upon the closet floor. 

“You’re getting things dreadfully inixy!' 
groaned Molly. “Please be slow.” 

Molly might as well have asked frisky Gin- 
ger to keep step to “Old Hundred.” Her 
little sister fluttered about like thistledown 
in a breeze till the two tables were spread 
with embroidered tea-cloths and china, silver 
and glass. Then came a knock at the door, 
and Hop Kee appeared with eatables sent 
by the expected guests. 

“It’s like a church festival,” said Molly, 
as she and Weezy arranged the things upon 
the tables. 

Mr. Rowe furnished a basket of muscatel 
grapes ; Mrs. Rowe a platter of “ pocket-book ” 
rolls ; and there was a dish of lobster salad 
from Pauline, and some nuts and raisins 
from Paul. Kirke, who had returned chilled 


A PICNIC AT HOME 


95 


from what he called his paper drive, pre- 
sented himself a few minutes later with a 
very red face and a very heaping tureen of 
hot popped corn. And behind Kirke came 
Hop Kee with a gift of radishes so daintily 
prepared that they looked like pink and 
white rosebuds. 

But the crowning glory of the feast was 
Weezy’s frosted birthday cake, with her name 
on the top in pink sugar letters, and around 
the name seven pink candles, one candle for 
every year of her life. Molly placed the 
cake upon Weezy’s table, which was trimmed 
with smilax; and Weezy lighted the candles. 
The shades were drawn, the fire in the grate 
kindled ; and when the company walked in 
the little parlor was ablaze with light. Out- 
side, the hail had turned to rain, which dashed 
in little waterfalls against the windows. 

“ The street is swimming ; papa brought 
me across in his arms,” cried Pauline, giving 
Weezy seven kisses. 


96 YOUNG MASTER! KIRKE 

“ Did he ? Oh, he must stay to my party,” 
exclaimed Weezy, dancing down the stairway, 
and dragging Captain Bradstreet back. 

“ Stay ? of course I will ; and thank you 
too,” he was saying, in his bluff, hearty fash- 
ion. “ I never refuse a lady.” 

After all were seated about the room, Molly 
served the salad upon green china plates, and 
Kirke handed these to the guests. Then he 
passed the buttered rolls and other nice things; 
and everybody ate and laughed and chatted, 
till presently it was time for Weezy to blow 
out the candles and cut the cake. 

You should have seen how proud she looked 
when she lifted the big knife and began to 
slash into the loaf ! If no two pieces were 
of the same size and shape, nobody was un- 
kind enough to speak of it. The captain’s 
happened to have the pink sugar W upon it, 
and Paul’s had the two E’s. 

“ I never ate cake with &uch ease before,” 


A PICNIC A T HOME 


97 


remarked Paul roguishly, as Hop Kee carried 
around the ice-cream. 

Weezy wondered why they laughed. 

“ I like the cream best,” she said ; “ it is hail- 
cream.” 

“ It’s hail to the cream, I say,” cried Paul, 
spearing his fork into the frozen mound in his 
saucer. 

“And hail to the little lady that invited 
us to share it with her,” added the jovial cap- 
tain. 

“ I never saw a little girl have a better time 
at her own party,” said Kirke, giving Weezy’s 
ear a playful tweak. 

“ And for my part, I never saw a little girl 
have a better party,” returned Paul gallantly. 
“ It beats La Jolla and the seine-fishing.” 

“ But we’re going to La Jolla too,” cried 
Weezy, flourishing her big knife. “ Azackly 
as soon as Manuel gets well, we’re going ; 
'thont a birthday.” 


98 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


CHAPTER VIII 

IN A CHIMNEY 

“ I WISH Manuel would hurry to get well,*’ 
said Weezy impatiently, the afternoon before 
Christmas. 

She wanted Kirke and Molly to finish the 
harness they were making for Zip, and ob- 
jected to Kirke’s leaving his work in order 
to carry Manuel’s newspapers. 

“ I wish he’d get well, myself ; you’d better 
believe that, Weezy,” muttered Kirke, with 
a side glance at Molly on the upper step of 
the veranda. 

Any remark about Manuel’s illness gave 
Kirke a guilty feeling. Besides, he was 
heartily tired of what Paul termed “ ped- 
dling.” Should he ever be through with the 


IN A CHIMNEY 


99 


distasteful task? If he ever was, then hurrah 
for his new project ! For the wish to buy 
Mrs. Carillo the sewing-machine had been 
maturing in Kirke’s mind for many a day ; 
and out of this had grown a plan thus far 
confided to no one but his papa and mamma. 
It was this : to drive a dime express, and set 
aside the proceeds for Mrs. Carillo. 

That morning Mr. Rowe had given his con- 
sent ; and remarked to Mrs. Rowe after his 
son was out of hearing, “ That is a noble 
scheme for a lad no older than Kirke to pro- 
pose. Some boys in his station in life would 
have too much false pride to make errand- 
boys of themselves.” 

“ I think Kirke has gained independence 
since he began to carry the newspapers,” an- 
swered Mrs. Rowe ; “ and he certainly has 
shown good feeling in regard to the Carillos. 
Aren’t you gratified that he thought himself 
of buying the sewing-machine ? ” 


100 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ To be sure I am ; we never must let the 
boy know that we had talked of buying it 
ourselves.” 

“ By no means. Let him earn it if he can. 
It would be a pity to deprive him of the good 
and the pleasure that self-sacrifice brings.” 

“ Manuel is improving fast,” said Molly, 
waxing her thread as they sat on the veranda. 
“His bones are beginning to knit, the doctor 
says.” 

“Bones don’t knit,” exclaimed Weezy with 
scorn. 

Molly smiled. 

“ Indeed they do, Weezy. They knit them- 
selves. They grow together.” 

“Well,” interrupted Kirke, pricking awl- 
holes very fast in the leather strap he was 
sewing ; “ as soon as Manuel can run upon 
his legs again, I know what I’m going to do.” 

“ What are you, Kirke } ” 

“You’ll see. Here, Zip, stand still, old dog- 
gie, and let us try on your suit.” 


IN A CHIMNEY 


101 


Zip barked and wriggled ; but between 
them, Kirke and Molly slipped the harness 
over him, taking it in here and loosening it 
there, till Molly pronounced it “a love of a 
fit.” 

“Well, Kirke, what are you going to do ” 
repeated Molly, while she set the final stitches. 

“Oh, something fine.” Kirke screwed up 
his lips to keep back the weighty secret. 

“I know, Kirke. You’re going to La Jolla 
with ‘ The Merry Five ’ to see the seine- 
fishing.” 

“ Something more’n that, Molly.” 

“ With Paul, then, to his uncle’s ranch at 
Sweetwater.” 

“ No ; guess again.” 

“ Can’t, Kirke ; tell me.” 

“ Well, sir,” said Kirke, flourishing his 
awl, “please listen. When I wind up my 
newspaper job I mean to start in business.” 

“In whose business ” asked Molly, laugh- 


102 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


ing. She had often heard her brother talk 
like this before. 

“ In my own business, thank you. In the 
express business.” 

“ Kirke Rowe ! what are you raving about } 
Have you spoken to papa ? ” 

“ Of course. He says I may do it out of 
school-hours.” 

“ May do what ? Who says it ? ” inter- 
rupted Weezy, who had been to the o//a 
swinging from the north porch to get herself 
a drink of water. 

“ May eat 7ny dinner ; everybody says 
it ! ” retorted Kirke, with a teasing laugh. 
And he darted away on his afternoon trip. 

On his return, he brought with him a lit- 
tle tin can of black paint and a small paint- 
brush. His sharp-eyed little sister saw him 
put these away on a beam in the stable, and 
was not slow in asking what he meant to do 
with them. 


IN A CHIMNEY 


103 


“ Wait till Manuel is well, and I’ll show 
you.” 

“ But I want to know now,” pouted Weezy. 

“ Do you, really ? Yes ; I believe you do ! ” 

“Oh, Kirke, I think you might tell me.” 

Being much too fond of hectoring his pry- 
ing young sister, Kirke next began to whistle. 
But seeing Weezy’s lips quiver, he stopped 
at once, and hastened to interest her in two 
parcels lying on the seat of the cart. 

“Here are the roller skates for Harry 
Hobbs, Missy. Aren’t they beauties ? ” 

“They’re exqtdt. Oh, won’t Harry be so 
glad ! ” cried Weezy, hopping on one foot. 

“ Glad ? The little fellow will chuckle way 
down to his toes ! ” 

“What’s in the swelly white paper?” 

“ Oh, that’s a rubber ball for Essie. There 
was money enough for that too.” 

“ Was there ? And did / buy some of 
it ? ” 


104 


YOUXG MASTER KIRKE 


“Yes; you bought all the hole and part 
of the wind,” answered Kirke in jest. “ I 
put your twenty-five cents into the purse with 
Molly’s money and mine.” 

Weezy’s eyes sparkled like stars. Ever 
since the morning when she had overheard 
Kirke and Molly talking of presents for the 
little Hobbs children, she had been eager to 
join in the purchase. She supposed her quar- 
ter of a dollar could buy almost anything ; 
for she knew about as much of the worth 
of money as her horned toads knew of arith- 
metic. 

“ Where’s Molly ? ” asked Kirke, feeding 
an armful of barley straw to Hoppity. 

“She’s gone to Mrs. Carillo’s; Pauline too. 
Mamma sent a Christmas-cake ; frosting on.” 

“Then they won’t be home much before 
dinner. You and I had better take the 
things over to Miss Hobbs right away,” said 
Kirke, tucking the skates under his arm. 


IN A CHIMNEY 


105 


“ Run into the house, please, Weezy, and 
ask mamma if we can.” 

Weezy returned with her hat on, and a 
brown paper parcel in her hand. 

“ Mamma says ‘yes ’ ; and for us to give this 
to Miss Hobbs, and tell her ‘ Merry Christmas.’ ” 

“Oh, yes ; I remember. It’s spider-leg tea.” 

“ ’Tisn’t spiders’ legs,” contradicted Weezy 
indignantly. 

“ I didn’t say it was spiders’ legs,” retorted 
Kirke, grinning. “ It’s a nice kind of tea that 
Miss Hobbs likes. She drinks tea like a fish.” 

“You’re a funny boy. Fishes don’t drink 
tea,” chattered Weezy, skipping along the 
pavement beside her brother, swinging the 
parcel by the string. 

“There, Miss Hobbs can’t be a fish. See 
here, Weezy ; don’t say a word to Harry and 
Essie about the presents. I’ll give ’em to their 
Aunt Ruth on the sly, and ask her to put them 
into the stockings to-night.” 


io6 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


But unfortunately Kirke and Weezy found 
the small green cottage closed, and not a living 
creature in sight save Miss Hobbs’s nanny- 
goat browsing by the roadside. 

“ I call this up-and-down shabby,” said 
Kirke, weary of knocking. “ Let’s go round 
to the back door.” 

That also was fastened. Kirke perched upon 
a ladder standing in front of it, thrust his 
hands in his pockets, and after his usual habit 
began to whistle. 

“ Going to wait till Miss Hobbs comes 
home } ” queried Weezy, walking backward to 
see the top of the ladder which rested against 
the house below the eaves. 

“ Depends upon when she comes. Who 
knows but she’s gone to Mexico.^” 

“ Leave the things on the prazza^ Kirke. 1 
would. It’ll s’prise her.” 

Kirke shook his head, and stopped whis- 
tling. 


IN A CHIMNEY 


lo; 

‘‘ No, Weezy ; that never d do. Somebody 
might steal ’em, or the goat might chew the 
tea and have a fit. No ; I suppose we shall 
have to bring the presents to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, dear, and not have Harry and Essie find 
a single, dingle one when they wake up ? I 
think that’ll be horrid.” 

“ So do I ; but who wants to come back after 
dinner ? ” said Kirke rather crossly. We’re 
going to light the Christmas-tree early, before 
Donald goes to bed. I’d chuck the bundles in 
at a window, only Miss Hobbs has bolted every 
blessed one,” continued Kirke, dropping the 
vexatious parcels at the foot of the ladder, and 
climbing up to look down the street for the 
children and their aunt. 

Before he knew it, Weezy had followed, still 
dangling by its string the pound of spider-leg 
tea. 

“ Oh, what a weeny, teeny house it is,” she 
cried, capering behind Kirke over the flat roof. 


io8 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ S’pose Santa Claus could crawl down that 
teenty tonty chimney?” 

“’Twould be a pretty tight squeeze for the 
old gentleman, wouldn’t it ? ” cried Kirke, peep- 
ing in at the top. 

“ What did you come up here for, Midget? 
A fine time I shall have helping you down.” 

“ Don’t want you to help me. I can climb 
down my own self,” replied Weezy coolly, 
standing on the toe of his right boot in order 
to peep into the “smoke-hole.” “O Kirke! 
let’s make Miss Hobbs laugh herself to pieces, 
will you ? Let’s throw the presents down her 
chimney ! ” 

“ Make believe be Santa Claus, hey ? ” 
laughed Kirke. “You’re a bright chicken.” 

Weezy was always as quick as a flash. She 
did not stop now to think whether Kirke were 
in jest or in earnest ; but before the words 
were fairly out of his mouth she gave the paper 
of tea a fling, and over it went into the chim- 


IN A CHIMNEY 


109 


ney. Instead of falling to the bottom, it caught 
by the string on a sharp point of mortar just 
out of reach ; and there it hung, swaying back- 
ward and forward like a clumsy pendulum. 

“ Luddy tuddy, you’ve done it now. Miss 
Meddlesome,” exclaimed Kirke sorely vexed. 
“What’ll Miss Hobbs say to you ” 

“ I meant to throw it way, way down. 
Truly I did,” cried Weezy in dismay. “Oh! 
can’t you get it, Kirke ^ Try. Oh, please 
try I ” 

“ ‘ Oh, please try 1 ’ mimicked Kirke angrily. 
“ Oh, yes, ‘ please try,’ and make myself as 
black as a crow I ” 

Tearing off his jacket, he leaned forward 
into the sooty square of bricks as far as he 
safely could. Not succeeding in touching the 
package, he leaned a little farther, and a little 
farther yet. He kept reaching and reaching 
till at last his fingers closed over the parcel. 
He had the parcel. Oh, yes ; but the chimney 


I lO YOUNG MASTER KIRK'E 

had him; and it held him fast, like a stopper 
in a bottle! All but his legs, — they were 
free, and appeared above the upper row of 
bricks, waving violently to and fro, as if a 
tempest blew them. You might have fancied 
they were the stalks of some strange plant, 
and that the chimney was the flower-pot. 

Oh, I’m stuck, Weezy ! I can’t move. 
Oh, what shall I do ” shrieked the unfortu- 
nate boy in a far-away voice. 

Oh, oh I what shall I do } ” echoed Weezy, 
hopping up and down, and crying with all 
her might. 

“ I’m choking. I can’t breathe.” 

“ Kirke’s choking. He can’t breathe,” 
yelled Weezy to the four corners of the 
house. 

“ Louder ! Scream louder I ” 

“ Oh, come I Somebody come ! Kirke’s 
smiiddering ! ” 


“ Howl ! Call papa I ” 



0, I’m stuck, Weezyl I can’t move.” 


I lo 



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t 



Vi 

H i 


M 












'wl 

'll 


. i 




IN A CHIMNEY 


III 


** I’ll howl ! oh, I will ! ” sobbed Weezy, 
flying to the ladder so easily climbed. 

Its uppermost round was some inches below 
the roof. Would she be able to step upon 
it with no one holding her hand ? She had 
boasted that she could climb down “ her own 
self.” Could she ? Did she dare ^ 

Oh, the ladder’ll jiggle ! I ’most know it’ll 
jiggle ! ” wailed she, dropping upon her knees 
with her back to it, and clinging to the eaves 
with both hands. 

She put out one little foot, then drew it 
back. Oh, the step was so long, and she was 
so short ; and the ladder was so very, very 

joggly 1 

But she heard Kirke murmuring in the 
chimney like a big fly in a jug, and saw 
his legs kicking harder than ever. 

“ I’ll call papa, Kirke. Oh, I will ! ” cried 
she, so frightened for her brother that she 
forgot to be afraid for herself. 


II2 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


She put out her foot again ; and this time 
she did not draw it back, but kept on nimbly 
down the ladder. Nevertheless, for all the 
good she did Kirke by going, she might as 
well have remained upon the roof ; for Miss 
Hobbs ran puffing into the yard that very 
minute, pointing to Kirke’s dancing legs, and 
crying, — 

Hof hall thinks ! ” 

You may be sure the good woman was not 
long in throwing down her clothes-basket, 
mounting the roof, and pulling Kirke out 
of the chimney by his two feet, as if he had 
been a forked radish growing upside down. 
Ah, such a sight as he was! No ink could 
have been blacker than his face. At the 
sight of it Miss Hobbs sank upon the shingles 
and laughed and laughed ; and Weezy and 
the other children laughed till they cried. 
Kirke thought them very silly, but put on a 
bold front, and said that so long as he was 


IN A CHIMNEY 


II3 

free he didn’t care much whether he was a 
white man or a negro. 

At the foot of the ladder he slipped the 
skates and ball into Miss Hobbs’s apron, and 
gave her the tea, which was not in the least 
harmed, and which pleased her extremely. 

“ Hand when ’Arry and Hessie see your 
presents to-morrow morning they’ll be too 
’appy to live,” she said, wiping her eyes on 
the hem of the apron. “You are grand, good 
children, hall of you. Bless your little ’arts.” 

Miss Hobbs’s blessing sent Kirke home as 
soothed as he was sooty ; and while he scrubbed 
off the grime, he kept smiling at the remem- 
brance that he had helped to make some- 
body “ ’appy.” 

“ I’ll try it again,” he muttered between 
dashes of soapsuds. “ I’ll try next to make 
Mrs. Carillo ’appy ; but, Timothy Moses ! if 
I know myself^ I’ll steer clear of her chimney! ” 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


II4 


IX 

BY THE SEA 

The Rowe children enjoyed the Christmas- 
tree immensely ; and their presents, which were 
just the ones that they had most desired. 
They had a happy Christmas also ; though 
with doors and windows open, and flowers 
blooming everywhere, Molly said it seemed 
too much like the Fourth of July. Then New 
Year’s came and passed; and the Chinese 
New Year’s, which attracted Hop Kee to 
Chinatown night after night to feast with 
friends, and to burn yards and yards of India 
crackers. And now it was March, with green 
fields and glowing yellow poppies. 

By this time Manuel was able to carry his 
newspapers himself, and The Merry Five ” 


BY THE SEA 


II5 

celebrated Kirke’s freedom by taking the 
long-talked-of trip to La Jolla. As an espe- 
cial favor Weezy had been allowed to bring 
Zip, at present in her good graces. 

The party intended to dine at the hotel, 
kept by a landlord known to Mr. Rowe ; and 
on arriving, Kirke and Paul went at once to 
the office to register their names, while the 
girls remained outside upon the veranda. 
Several nicely dressed people were seated 
there admiring the beautiful view of the 
ocean, and the children talked in low tones in 
order not to disturb them. 

“ Oh, isn’t it lovely here } ” exclaimed 
Pauline, pushing back her hair, which was 
apt to be untidy. 

So peaceful and quiet,” said Molly. 

“ Bow-wow-wow ! bow-wow-wow ! ” yelped 
wicked Zip at the top of his voice. He had 
spied a little white kitten under a bench, 
and he barked at her till the poor kitten 
rounded her back into an arch. 


Il6 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

“ Here, Zip ; come here,” called Weezy, 
deeply mortified. 

But Zip was making the most of this op- 
portunity to tell a cat how he hated her, 
and he would not be diverted ; though Weezy 
coaxed and Molly scolded, he continued to 
bark till Kirke rushed out and dragged him 
away by the collar. 

“ Come on, all of you,” called Kirke, looking 
backward. 

I never was so ashamed,” cried Molly, 
very red in the face, as she and the others 
followed down to the shore. “ Ginger won’t 
allow such actions.” 

“ No ; Ginger is too spunky. Zip was bound 
to give this little kitten a piece of his mind,” 
remarked Kirke dryly. 

“Yes,” retorted Paul; “he was very dog- 
matic.” 

“And very nnfelhie^' added Molly amid 
a chorus of laughter. 


BY THE SEA I17 

“ What is unfeline, Molly ? ” asked Weezy, 
rather aggrieved. 

“ U7icatlyy' replied Molly gayly, which called 
forth a second shout of laughter. 

“ Hoh, ‘uncatly’ is a make-believe word. 
Don’t I know, Molly Rowe } ” 

It was one of Weezy’s trials that people 
would talk of things she could not understand ; 
and one of her failings that she wished to 
appear to know more than she knew. 

“Zip is like a cinnamon-tree, — chiefly val- 
uable for the bark,” observed Paul ; and was 
immediately chided by Pauline for his rude- 
ness. 

“ Well, I’m not sorry to give Zip’s bark to 
the waves,” said Molly, as they reached Gold 
Fish Point, and looked down upon the great 
caverns. 

A flock of wild ducks was alighting upon 
the rocky wall above them, and Molly com- 
pared these to big letters on a blackboard. 


Il8 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

“ Only your ducks happen to be black, and 
your blackboard happens to be brown,” said 
Kirke. “The ducks look to me more like 
splotches of paint on the side of an old 
barn.” 

“ Oh, Kirke,” broke in Weezy, sitting beside 
him on the bench placed for tourists, “what 
did you buy your paint for You promised 
you’d tell me.” 

“I promised I’d tell you sometime.” 

“Well, it’s sometime now.” 

Kirke chuckled, and aimed an orange-peel 
at a sea-gull skimming over their heads. 

“If you must know. I’m going to paint my 
name on my burro-cart.” 

“ What for .? ” 

“For a sign.” 

“ Sign of what ? ” 

“Sign I’ve gone into business.” 

Weezy began to scowl. Molly and Paul 
and Pauline tried to appear indifferent. They 


BV THE SEA 


II9 

would not humor Kirke by betraying any 
curiosity. 

“I may as well tell, I suppose,” said Kirke, 
after a decent pause. He was really eager 
to reveal the important secret kept all these 
weeks from pure love of teasing. “The fact 
is. I’m going to run an express.” 

“ An express ? ” repeated Weezy, secretly 
wondering if her wide-awake brother could 
mean to run off with a steam-engine. 

“Yes; I expect to ‘start in’ a week from 
next Monday.” 

Paul looked at Kirke in surprise. 

“Well, Selkirk, you’re about the queerest 
fellow I ever saw, or ever didn’t see! I 
thought you had had enough of that sort of 
thing when you went round peddling papers I ” 

There was a slight touch of contempt in 
Paul’s tone. He had forgiven Kirke the news- 
paper craze because Kirke held queer notions 
about doing his duty, and all that sort of 


120 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


thing. But what upon earth had set him out 
to run an express.? Paul began to suspect 
that Kirke was not as refined as he ought 
to be. 

“Well, I want a little fun ; don’t you under- 
stand .? ” was all the reply Kirke made. 

He did not like to say that the prime mo- 
tive for his new enterprise was the desire to 
help Mrs. Carillo, for Paul would laugh at 
that. Moreover, Kirke never boasted of his 
good impulses ; whatever Paul and Pauline 
might think, Kirke was at heart “a little 
gentleman.” 

“Might as well be a common truckman 
while you’re about it, Kirke,” growled Paul. 

“Why will you do such odd things, Kirke.?” 
murmured blushing Molly. “What will people 
say .?” 

Kirke whistled to keep up his courage, then 
remarked for the second time, — 

“ I shall ‘ start in ’ a week from Monday. 
Must letter my cart first.” 


By THE SEA 


121 


What shall you put on ? ” asked Paul 
coldly, beginning to climb down the cliff. 

“ What would you, Paul ? ” 

/ shouldn’t put on anything. But if 
you’re bound to make a spread, how’s this ? 
‘Parcels delivered to any part of the city.’” 

“‘For ten cents,”’ added Kirke, with a 
business-like air. “I must get that in, you 
know, to catch trade.” 

“ Why, Kirke Rowe, you can’t put all those 
letters on one little cart,” cried Molly, as 
Kirke hastened after Paul, now entering the 
largest cave. 

“ Please bring me a mermaid’s cradle,” called 
Weezy, when Kirke had reached the water’s 
edge. 

“I will if I can find one,” screamed Kirke, 
skipping upon a large rock extending far into 
the ocean. 

He became so engrossed in looking for the 
little shell that he never noticed a big wave 


122 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


coming, till the wave broke over him and 
drenched him from head to foot. 

“ Oh, he’s drownded ! my brother Kirke is 
drownded!'' shrieked Weezy from the top of 
the cliff. 

But the next moment Kirke clambered up 
the steep side with a wry face. 

‘‘‘Drownded’.^ no; I’m not ^drownded,’ but 
I’m in a pickle, — an outrageous pickle. How 
shall I ever go in to dinner } ” 

“ O Kirke Rowe ! you unlucky boy ! First 
it’s chimneys and then it’s oceans! What’ll 
happen to you next.^” exclaimed Molly. “Oh, 
I’m afraid you’ll get a dreadful cold.” 

“Strip off your jacket, Kirke,” ordered Paul, 
hurrying to the rescue. 

Paul wrung out the dripping jacket and 
spread it in the sun ; Pauline squeezed the 
salt water from Kirke’s hair ; and Molly soiled 
all the pocket handkerchiefs of the party in 
trying to rub his clothes dry. As for Weezy, 


BY THE SEA 


123 


she tired herself very much in whirling about 
and doing nothing. 

“I wonder you didn’t see the tide coming 
in, Kirke,” said Pauline, parting his hair with 
a sharp bit of clamshell. 

“ Poh ! what do you girls know about the 
sea ? ” scoffed Kirke, forgetting that Pauline 
had made several voyages. 

“There’s one thing that we girls do know 
about, anyway,” returned Pauline good-na- 
turedly; “it’s about dinner-time. The people 
are walking toward the hotel; and if you 
can squeeze into your jacket we’d better 
hurry.” 

“The Merry Five” had a little square table 
to themselves by a window facing the ocean, 
and began their dinner with clam-soup — all 
but Paul. He protested that he was not 
clamorous for that sort of thing. 

‘ “ Does pretty Paul want a cracker ? ” asked 
Molly, slyly passing the plate. 


124 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


No, thank you,” retorted Paul ; “ I’ll wait 
for the fish. I like fish, Rowe and all.” 

It was a merry meal ; and when it was 
ended, the landlord drove the party to the 
beach a mile away, to see the seine-fishing. 

“One of the Kanakas is pulling the boat 
around Gold Fish Point,” said Paul, as they 
jolted along in the barge with others from 
the hotel. “ Those Kanakas can row like 
smoke.” 

“Those — what.^” asked Weezy, opening her 
eyes very wide. 

“ Kanakas, — Sandwich Islanders, you know. 
There are two of them at La Jolla, and they 
catch all the fish for the hotel table. They 
are capital seine-fishers.” 

“I’m glad they’re sane; I’m afraid of crazy 
men,” said Molly demurely, as the barge 
stopped at the beach. 

The Kanakas had reached it before them ; 
and the long net, or seine, was piled in the 


BV THE SEA 


125 


Stern of the dory, all but the end held by 
three men on the shore. 

“ Look, look ! the fellow is pushing out to 
sea ! ” cried Kirke in great excitement. 

The brown-skinned islander sat in the bow 
propelling the dory with the oars, while the 
net trailed in its wake like a great serpent. 
He was steering straight through the breakers 
which came thundering upon the beach. 

“Oh, oh, the boat is standing on end! It’ll 
spill the man out I ” shrieked Weezy. 

But before she had finished speaking, the 
boat shot from the waves right side up, with 
the Kanaka still rowing. Then it seemed to 
stand upon its other end, and then to disap- 
pear beneath the rollers ; yet, when the rollers 
passed, the dory was still afloat, and the 
Kanaka was still rowing. 

“ I don’t believe he’s missed a stroke,” cried 
Kirke ; “ is he turning back, Paul } ” 

“Yes; he’s making for the beach, where 


126 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


those two men are waiting to drag in the 
end of the net that’s in the boat. Let’s run 
down and count the catch.” 

The net was drawn up in a great scallop 
upon the sand, and found to contain a few 
small silver fish, and three scarlet rock-cod. 
When these had been put into a tub, the 
Kanaka rowed out again with the empty seine, 
and the second time brought it back heavy 
with -^caly creatures, the largest of which was 
a shark. Zip barked at this so wildly that 
Kirke hurried him into the wagon. 

“ Zip needn’t be so furious ; the landlord 
says this shark isn’t a man-eater,” observed 
Molly, as they entered the car on their return 
home. 

“ Zip is only giving another piece of his 
mind,” returned Paul with a shrug. 

“ He speaks too many pieces,” retorted 
Pauline flippantly. 

“ Recites too much doggerel,” put in Molly. 


BV THE SEA 


127 


At the Silver Gate Station “The Merry 
Five” took an electric car; and on the way 
home passed Manuel with his leather bag 
slung across his shoulder. 

“ Do you think he limps at all, Molly ? ” 
whispered Kirke, returning Manuel’s smile 
and bow. 

“ Why, no,” said Molly, casting a sharp 
glance through the window. “ I’m sure he 
doesn’t. He walks as well as ever he did.” 


V 


28 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


CHAPTER X 

THE BURRO EXPRESS 

It was the triggest, quaintest turnout in 
Silver Gate City, — that little gray burro with 
his little gray cart and little gray driver, or, 
more correctly speaking, little driver in gray. 
Molly said so ; and Molly ought to have known, 
having been consulted times without number 
in regard to all the details, from the cardinal 
bow on the whip to the black signs on the 
cart itself. 

Of the latter there were two, one on either 
side, printed in bold capitals, that he who ran 
might read : — 


KIRKE ROWE. 
PARCELS. 


THE BURRO EXPRESS 


129 


“You’ve painted the letters beautifully, 
Kirke ; and they are not so very uneven, I’m 
sure,” said Molly. 

Kirke was setting forth on his trial trip, 
and had stopped his team in front of the 
veranda to be admired by his sisters. 

“ I wanted to print ‘ Parcels carried to any 
part of the city for ten cents,’ but there wasn’t 
room,” remarked Kirke regretfully. 

“ I should think not, unless you had made 
the cart bigger,” rejoined Molly. “You might 
have painted ‘ Parcels carried for ten cents,’ 
though, and have left off your name.” 

“Indeed, that would be fine, to go into 
business and not get any credit for it ! ” 

“ Why didn’t you paint it ‘ Kirke Rowe, 
ten cents asked Weezy. “/would.” 

“ And have them call me a ‘ ten-cent boy ! ’ 
No, thank you. Miss Louise; I flatter myself 
that I’d sell for rather more than a dime.” 

“ I hope you’ll earn ten dimes this very 


130 


YOUNG A/ASrE/^ KIRKE 


first night,” said Molly, leaning over the 
veranda railing. “Why, Kirke Rowe, if you 
haven’t been painting Hoppity’s hoofs ! ” 

“ Only polishing them with shoe-blacking. 
Don’t they look neat } By, by ; ” and off 
drove Kirke, whistling “Tommy Atkins” as 
loud as he could. 

He was full of courage this afternoon, and 
secretly hoped to come home with his pock- 
ets jingling with silver. If he did, so much 
the better for Mrs. Carillo and her sewing- 
machine ! Since Manuel’s accident, Kirke 
had seen Mrs. Carillo nearly every day, and 
come to like her extremely. • Perhaps he 
liked her the better because she was so 
handsome; certainly he liked her none the 
less because she was so fond of himself, so 
“chummy,” so confiding. He knew to a 
dime how many silver pieces were in the 
cracked blue bowl under the chopping-tray ; 
knew, too, that since Manuel’s illness these 


THE BURRO EXPRESS 


I3I 

had not increased. He had actually seen 
the coveted sewing-machine which had been 
offered to Mrs. Carillo for twenty-five dollars. 

“ So sheap,'" she said. “ Almost so good 
as the new ; and with the so many ’tach- 
ments.” 

From her lips, “’tachments” had a very 
affectionate sound, Kirke thought. On his 
way down-town, he felt in his pocket for the 
business cards printed for him by Paul, on 
Paul’s hand-press. They were safe. He read 
one with inward satisfaction : — 

KIRKE ROWE, 

Express Carrier^ 

1760 Lemon Street. 

People smiled when they saw Kirke com- 
ing down Main Street ; he looked so eager 
and wide awake ; and his cart and burro 
looked so spick-and-span, like those painted 
on slices of orange wood in the curio stores. 
But these people who had time to smile, had 


32 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


no packages to be carried. Kirke walked 
Hoppity up and down several streets with- 
out securing an order. 

“This never’ll do; I must make some kind 
of a bluster to draw custom,” he said to 
himself ; and at the next Corner he shouted 
lustily, “ One dime, one dime ; parcels to any 
part of the city for one dime.” 

A fat old lady on the crossing heard him, 
and called out, — 

“ Here, sonny, come here ; I have a budget 
for you, sonny ! ” 

Sonny, indeed ! What was the woman 
thinking about to talk that way to an ex- 
pressman .!* Kirke had a great mind not to 
pay any attention to her, but could not af- 
ford to miss his first chance of earning a 
dime. In doing the errand he passed Miss 
Hobbs’s green cottage, and little Essie play- 
ing in the street with her Christmas ball ; 
and a little farther on he met Molly and 
Pauline. 


THE BURRO EXPRESS 


133 


“ I’m ten cents in, Molly,” he shouted. “ If 
I earn more money than I can take care of, 
I’ll give you some.” 

“ Thank you, sir ; you’re very kind,” an- 
swered Molly, sweeping him a courtesy. 

“ Kirke thinks it’ll be great fun to drive 
that little cart,” she said to Pauline as he 
turned the corner; “but I’m afraid he’ll soon 
get sick of it.” 

“ Have you ever found out what started 
him to do it, Molly.?” 

“ Oh, didn’t I tell you .? I made him own 
up at last. He wants to help Mrs. Carillo 
buy a sewing-machine.” 

“ Why, what put that notion in the boy’s 
head .? ” asked Pauline, walking on with one 
arm around Molly’s waist. 

“Oh, she needs it dreadfully! She has had 
to give up doing fine embroidery because it 
hurts her eyes.” 

“ But that isn’t Kirke’s bread and butter.” 


34 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ Papa and mamma think it is. Mrs. Carillo 
would have paid for the machine by this time 
if it hadn’t been for Manuel’s accident. And 
you know Kirke was to blame for that.” 

“ Oh, accidents will happen,” said easy-going 
Pauline, stooping to tie her shoe-lacing. 

“Kirke doesn’t talk much about the affair; 
but he knows he did wrong, and wants to 
try to make up for it.” 

“ It’s kingdom-of-heaven good of him.” 

Molly smiled. 

“ Kirke’s pretty good once in a while,” said 
she ; “ but I don’t see anything very heavenly 
about him.” 

“ Well, anyway, I don’t believe many boys 
would have cared so much for Manuel’s fall- 
ing as Kirke does.” 

“ I don’t know why they shouldn’t, Pauline. 
I feel awfully about it myself, and I’m sure 
papa and mamma do.” 

If Mr. and Mrs. Rowe were so distressed 


THE BURRO EXPRESS 


I3S 

in regard to the matter, why didn't they buy 
the machine themselves ? Pauline wondered. 
She did not suspect that they were encour- 
aging Kirke in his scheme for the lad’s own 
sake. 

“ But Kirke didn’t push Manuel over the 
cliff, Molly,” she said. 

“ Oh, no, Pauline ; of course not. Kirke 
would never be mean like that. But Manuel 
wouldn’t have tumbled if Kirke hadn’t stumped 
him to stand on the burro. Don’t you see ” 

“ I see how your eyes shine ! And they’re 
just the color of violets,” cried Pauline ad- 
miringly. “ I like to stir you up, Molly. It 
makes you look as pretty as a pink.” 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


136 


XI 

KIRKE WRETCHED 

Weeks went by, bringing Kirke success in 
his new enterprise. As he said, he soon “ got 
the hang of the thing,” and learned where 
to secure the best chances for business. Some 
days he earned a dime, some days, alas, 
nothing. 

But on the dull days, when he began to 
show signs of discouragement, his father was 
pretty sure to hire him to do some errands 
for himself. 

The whole family was interested in Kirke’s 
success ; and there was a general rejoicing 
on one memorable Saturday, when during an 
auction sale he amassed the lordly sum of 
one dollar and twenty cents. 


KIRKE WRETCHED 


37 


Every night he put the clay’s earnings into 
a round Mexican purse given him by Weezy ; 
and every morning he emptied the purse into 
Molly’s lap, and they counted the silver over 
just for fun. 

By the first of June the pile had increased 
to a goodly size ; by the middle, it was so 
large that, as Kirke proudly observed, — 

“ It wouldn’t jingle in the purse worth a 
cent.” 

That day he divided the quarters, climes, 
and nickels into separate heaps, and added 
them aloud in triumph. In all they amounted 
to nineteen dollars and ninety cents. 

Kirke was not taken by surprise ; though 
he clapped his hands all the same, and gave 
three cheers for Mrs. Carillo and the sewing- 
machine. 

“A dime more, Molly, and I’ll have the 
twenty dollars.” 

“ If you don’t earn it this morning. I’ll 


138 


YOUNG MASTER KIRK'E 


give it to you,” said Molly, nearly as delighted 
as he was. 

“ And if I do earn it, will you treat } ” 

“ Yes, ril treat ; what’ll you have ? ” 

“ Peanuts, thank you ; they go farthest for 
the money,” cried Kirke cheerily, leaping 
into his cart. “ Say, Hoppity, old boy, we’ve 
twenty dollars — all but — to add to Mrs. Ca- 
rillo’s five.” 

The burro looked backward and bobbed his 
head as if he understood the remark. “ Hurry 
up, old Lazy-bones ; if we’re sharp we can 
make that dime before school.” 

And as he drove down Fifth Street, Kirke’s 
glad young voice rang out clear and loud : — 

“ One bit ! one bit ! Parcels to any part 
of the city for one bit ! ” 

Keeping his eyes wide open, he presently 
saw a possible job in the shape of a large, 
ungainly bundle borne by two young girls. 

** Can I take that for you, young ladies } ” 



“ [t's my graduating-dress. Don’t crush it." 


139 



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KIRKE WRETCHED 


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he asked, driving up to the pavement where 
they stood earnestly talking. “ I deliver par- 
cels anywhere within city limits for a dime.” 

The girls looked at Kirke, who had lifted 
his cap ; and the one in red said to the one 
in brown, — 

“Would you have him take it, Josie.^” 

And the one in brown answered, 

“Yes, Mary, I would. ’Twas shabby of 
your dressmaker not to send it.” 

“ Oh, she hadn’t time, you know, Josie. 
The telegram came while she was trying 
on my dress, and she had to rush for the 
train.” 

Then handing the package to Kirke, who 
was getting a little impatient, the young lady 
added, — 

“ It’s my graduating-dress. Don’t crush 
it; will you ” 

“ Of course not,” he replied rather curtly. 
“ Where shall I leave it } ” 


140 


YOUNG MASTER KIRh'E 


“Wait ; ril give you the street and number 
in black and white, so there can be no mis- 
take,” said she, opening her school-satchel, 
and pulling over its contents. “ There, this 
is my name and address.” 

And she drew out her visiting-card, and 
handed it to him with a lofty air. 

Not to be outdone in ceremony, Kirke 
promptly handed her in exchange a card of 
his own, — one of the business cards printed 
for him by Paul. 

“ Do hurry, Mary ; we shall be late to re- 
hearsal,” cried Josie, walking on. 

“Yes, yes; I’m coming, Josie,” responded 
the girl in red, throwing Kirke his dime, and 
hurrying away. 

He had hardly placed the parcel in the back 
of the cart before she and her schoolmate 
had vanished around the corner. 

“Goodness me ! aren’t girls queer .?” he said 
to himself. “ They’ll keep a fellow waiting 


KIRKE WRETCHED 


I4I 

half an hour, and at the end of it go off like 
a gun.” 

Then he glanced at the card in his hand : — 

Miss Mary Davis, 

1650 Plum Street. 

*‘Phew! Doesn’t Miss Mary Davis put on 
the style, though ! Greeted me as if I was 
about four years old. Didn’t want me to crush 
her package ! Wonder if she supposed I’d sit 
down on it. Well, who cares } I’ve got the 
job, anyway, and I’ll show Miss Mary Davis I 
can do it in shape.” 

When he drove into his own door-yard 
twenty minutes later Molly was starting for 
school. 

Hoopty-do ! I’m ten cents in ! I’ve made 
up the twenty dollars,” he cried, leaping over 
the wheel in a tremor of delight. 

“That’s splendid, Kirke. And I’ve found 
out about Mrs. Carillo’s birthday ; it’s next 
Thursday ; Manuel told me so.” 


42 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ I’d rather give her the money to-morrow, 
and have it over with,” said Kirke, slipping 
Hoppity out of the thills. 

“ O Kirke ! that wouldn’t be half so nice. 
I” — 

Her brother was rods away, staking the 
burro in the alfalfa patch. Then he skipped 
off to school, and Molly saw him no more that 
day ; for by permission he took luncheon at 
noon with Paul Bradstreet, and after school 
went with Paul up to the mesa for a game of 
ball, and played till dark. 

But when he came home flourishing his 
shinny-stick, Molly met him on the veranda 
with most unwelcome news. 

“ O Kirke ! there has been a girl here to 
inquire for you, — a girl with a red dress on.” 

“ Mary Davis } ” 

“ She didn’t tell her name. She came twice. 
She’s dreadfully stirred up ; says she gave you 
her graduating-dress to carry home, and hasn’t 
seen it since ! ” 


KIRKE WRETCHED 


143 


‘‘ Why, Molly Rqwe, is she crazy ? I carried 
it straight to her house/’ 

“ She says you didn’t ; she says it isn’t 
there.” 

“ But it is ; it must be. I handed it to a 
young lady that came to the door.” 

“This girl says her sister has been at home 
all day, and the door-bell hasn’t rung once.” 

“ Then the girl fibs ; and I’ll tell her so to 
her face,” cried Kirke, wringing the door-knob 
to relieve his feelings. 

“ Come in here, and let us talk about it,” 
called his mamma quietly from the sitting- 
room ; and he went in, tired, hungry, angry, 
and thoroughly bewildered. Still, if anybody 
could unravel this mystery he was sure his 
mother could do it ; Kirke was a boy who be- 
lieved in his mother. 

“ The girl thinks you dropped it in the 
street,” continued Molly, following him. “And 
she’s so troubled about it. I’m just as sorry 


144 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


for her as I can be. She has the class valedic- 
tory ; and she says she hasn’t any other dress 
fit to be seen.” 

Between pity for the girl’s distress and mor- 
tification at her brother’s having caused it, 
Molly was almost crying. 

“ I didn’t drop it. If I’d lost the parcel does 
she suppose I’d be mean enough not to own 
up.^” cried Kirke, his eyes flashing. “Now, 
mamma, you know I wouldn’t be such a 
sneak } ” 

“ I think you would mean to be a manly boy, 
Kirke,” said she, stroking the hair back from 
his hot forehead. 

She believed in her son, as he believed in his 
mother, but in despite of this could not help 
being a good deal disturbed by the present oc- 
currence. 

“ Does papa blame me } ” 

“ Papa has gone to Lakeside.” 

“ But blame me^ mamma; I can see it 


KIRKE WRETCHED 


145 


just as plain ! ” said Kirke, in an injured 
tone. 

“ You’re sometimes heedless, my son. You 
may have taken the dress to the wrong 
place ” — 

“ But, mamma, the young lady at the Plum- 
street house said 'twas all right.” 

What young lady } ” 

“ The one that opened the door for me.” 
What did you say to her } ” 

I handed her the girl’s card, and told her 
the girl had sent that bundle ; and she said, 
‘Very well, you may leave it.’ ” 

“ And you gave it to her ? ” 

“ Straight into her arms, mamma ; and she 
tore a hole in the paper and peeped inside.” 

“Did you see the gown, Kirke What color 
was it ? ” demanded Molly inquisitively. 

“Orange, I believe — or pink; something 
like that. Oh, I don’t remember. But I know 
I gave it to the young lady.” 


46 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


It s strange, very strange,” mused Mrs. 
Rowe. ‘‘And there’s that young girl crying 
her eyes out for the want of it. You must 
call at her house this evening, and learn what 
the trouble is, Kirke. I promised to send you 
as soon as you’d eaten your dinner.” 

“ I believe that Plum-street woman is an 
idiot. She can’t tell a dress from a paper 
bag,” muttered he, stalking into the dining- 
room where Hop Kee was clearing the table. 

“ Don’t you want me to go with you } ” 
asked kind-hearted Molly, pouring her brother 
a glass of milk, while the Chinaman brought 
the platter of broiled quail from the warming- 
oven. “I’ll go if you like.” 

This was Molly’s way of showing sympathy. 

“Good! You’re a brick, Molly!” 

This was Kirke’s way of expressing gratitude. 

When they went out upon the street, the 
electric lights were already twinkling. Hardly 
speaking, they hurried on until they reached 


KIRKE WRETCHED 


147 


Plum Street. At the second block Kirke 
paused. 

“ This is the house,” said he ; “ but it’s 
dark as a pocket.” 

“ I suppose all the shades are down,” said 
Molly, walking up to the front door and ring- 
ing the door-bell. 

Nobody answered. Kirke took his turn 
in pressing the electric button, and sounded 
a peal that wakened the echoes. 

Mercy, Kirke ! they’ll think we’re police- 
men ! ” 

Still nobody came. 

Then Kirke went around to the back door, 
as he had gone to Miss Hobbs’s the day be- 
fore Christmas ; and he knocked and knocked 
till his knuckles ached, and all the dogs in 
town fell to barking. 

“ Not a soul here ! Are you sure this is 
where you came this morning, Kirke.?” 


“ Sure.” 


148 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


“ Oh, dear, then they’ve gone off somewhere 
to spend the evening. I suppose that poor 
girl was so unhappy that she couldn’t stay 
at home.” 

“ Poor girl ! You’re always mourning over 
that poor girl, Molly Rowe ; I should think 
you might pity your own brother a little bit ! 
ril bet you I’m as unhappy as she is ; now 
come ! And I haven’t done anything I’m 
ashamed of, either.” 

“ I am sorry for you, Kirke ; I’m so sorry 
for you. I’m ’most dead,” responded Molly 
with feeling. “ What shall you do if you can’t 
find that dress ? ” 

“Find it.? I didn’t lose it, I tell you.” 

“ But if she can’t find it .? She says you’re 
bound to replace it. It cost twenty dollars, 
counting the making.” 

“ Timothy Moses ! All that .? Why, it 
didn’t weigh two pounds ! ” 

Kirke looked very sober. He was thinking 


KIRKE WRETCHED 1 49 

of the silver in the little Mexican purse. If 
worse came to worst, he might give that to 
the girl. But in that case he could not buy 
the sewing-machine for Mrs. Carillo. 

And in one sense he owed this to Mrs. 
Carillo ; for had she not run behind with her 
sewing because of Manuel’s illness ? And 
had not he himself been to blame for that 
illness ? 

“ Humpty-dumpty ! I wish I was a horned 
toad,” said Kirke dismally. “ I sha’n’t sleep 
a wink to-night.” 


YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 


150 


I 


CHAPTER XII 

EVERYBODY HAPPY 

Pauline had been away that evening. The 
next morning after breakfast Molly ran across 
the street to tell her about the missing dress. 
Though their homes were within a stone’s 
throw of each other, the two girls lived in 
different wards ; and Molly attended the 
North School, while Pauline went to Park 
Street. 

“ The girl is a Park-Strecter. She must 
be in your class,” said Molly at last, paus- 
ing for breath. 

“ Did you say she had the valedictory } 
Then, it’s Mary Gilbraith.” 

“ But Kirke said her name was Mary Davis. 
She gave him her card.” 


EVERYBODY HAPPY 


151 

It’s pretty well if I don’t know who is 
going to deliver our valedictory, Molly,” re- 
turned Pauline, not a little piqued. “ It’s 
Mary Gilbraith. Besides, there isn’t any 
Mary Davis in the class.” 

“There isn’t.? Queer Kirke should have 
made such a blunder ! But, anyhow, that 
young lady, — Kirke thought she was Mary 
Davis’s sister, — she looked at the card and 
said it was all right ; and then she took that 
dress, and carried it off.” 

“ How very, very strange, Molly.” 

“ I never heard the like. Pauline Brad- 
street, you don’t suppose that young lady 
has stolen the dress ! ” 

Pauline laughed aloud. 

“ O Molly ! Mary Gilbraith’s sister is a 
King’s Daughter ! She’s too good to 
breathe ! ” 

“ Then what has she done with that gown .? 
Kirke has gone down again this morning to 


152 


YOUNG MASTER KTRKE 


hunt for it; and if it was found he’d be back 
by this time.” 

“ ’ Way down to Mary Gilbraith’s, Molly } ” 

“ O Pauline ! how large is this Mary Gil- 
braith Do you suppose my new white mull 
would fit her } I do wish it would ! ” 

“ She’s about your size, Molly ; but if you 
lend her your mull, what’ll you wear yourself.” 

“ My old spotted muslin. It’s too short ; 
but my boots are pretty, and, thank fortune, 
I haven’t the valedictory.” 

“ O Molly ! you sha’n’t wear that thing. 
You’ll look as if you were in kilts.” 

“Now, Pauline, you don’t mean that ; though 
I’d almost be willing to be in a strait-jacket 
to help that poor girl out of this bother.” 

“You’re a love of a dear, Molly,” cried 
Pauline, with a painful embrace ; “ but we 
must be at the Opera House in half an hour, 
and you can’t have time to carry your gown 
to Mary Gilbraith. I’m glad of it!” 


EVERYBODY HAPPY 


153 


“Yes, I shall. I’m all ready but chan- 
ging my dress ; and I shall run every step 
of the way to Plum Street.” 

“ Pine Street, you mean ! ” called Pauline, 
as Molly dashed out of the door. “ The Gil- 
braiths live on Pine Street, you know.” 

“ I should think they did, and on the very 
tip end of it too ! ” exclaimed Kirke, rushing 
in, panting. “ I’ve just found that out ! Such 
a circus as I’ve had ! ” 

“ Pine Street ! Why didn’t Mary Gilbraith 
say so when she called at our house.?” cried 
Molly. “ But have you found the dress .? Oh, 
tell me, Kirke, have you found it.?” 

“Yes, nidam! At Miss Davis’s on Plum 
Street, where I carried the concern yester- 
day ! ” replied Kirke, fanning himself with 
his hat. “ That girl with the red dress gave 
me the wrong card ; that was what was the 
matter ! ” 

“May Gilbraith gave you the wrong card, 


154 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

Kirke? She’s always mixing things,” said 
Pauline. 

“Yes ; she gave me her dressmaker’s card, 
Miss Davis’s card. Miss Davis is the woman 
that made that everlasting gown.” 

“ But why did the dressmaker let you leave 
the dress, Kirke.?” asked Molly in wrath. 
“ She must have known it wasn’t Jier dress ! ” 
“The dressmaker wasn’t there. She was 
at Los Angeles; is there now. Had a tele- 
gram. Rushed off two-forty. It was another 
woman that I saw, a young woman.” 

“Another woman.?” gasped Molly, more 
and more confused. “ That’s worse yet. 
What right had the other woman to touch 
Mary Gilbraith’s dress .? ” 

Kirke laughed till the tears came. He had 
not felt so light-hearted for a month. 

“Why, she thought she had a right. She 
sews for Miss Davis, this young woman does. 
And when she saw the dress, she supposed 


EVERYBODY HAPPY 


155 


I had taken it back to Miss Davis to have it 
altered.’* 

“ Oh, that was it ! She couldn’t have asked 
you what you brought it back for ! Oh, no ! ” 
said Molly, still angry. 

“ It seems not. Probably took me for an 
idiot. All I know is, she put that dress away 
on the closet-shelf, expecting Mary Gilbraith 
would come in a few minutes to tell what 
changes were to be made in it.” 

“I should think she might have stayed at 
home, then, to see Mary.” 

Well ; she didn’t. Anyway, didn’t stay 
long. Went off and shut up the house. You 
see, this young woman doesn’t live with Miss 
Davis. She only sews at the house day-times.” 

“ Well, I must say ! ” exclaimed Molly, hold- 
ing up both hands. 

“ Say on ! ” cried Kirke, seizing them in 
his own. But instead of “saying on,” Molly 
fell to laughing; and the others laughed with 
- hen 


156 YOUNG MASTER KIRKE 

“ Mamma says it’s time to get ready, Molly,” 
cried Weezy, peeping in ; and Molly hurried 
away to put on the pretty white mull which 
there was no longer any need of her lending 
to careless Mary Gilbraith. 

But quickly as Molly ran, Kirke and Weezy 
reached home before her with the news that 
the package had been found. 

It made Mr. and Mrs. Rowe very happy, 
almost as happy as they were the autumn 
afterward when Molly rescued Essie Hobbs 
from being run over. But that adventure must 
be told in another book. 




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